


uwian

by thefullergirl



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Death of a pet, Domestic, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lots of it, M/M, Pining, Quarantine, Slow Burn, kind of??, mentions of illness, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefullergirl/pseuds/thefullergirl
Summary: “Sometimes, we can’t keep the things that we love, no matter how much we love them.” Doyoung’s fingers trace the shell of his ear, and it’s the gentlest touch in the world, yet it hurts so much. “We can’t do anything really, but I want you to remember that sometimes, loving them, loving all those things, it’s enough. It’s enough to love them, even if you can’t quite keep them here.”In which Taeyong says yes to a harmless little game and Doyoung’s drunken proposal, and he gets more than originally planned.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 30
Kudos: 149





	uwian

**Author's Note:**

> this fic took forever hhhh but it's here now! my first dotae that i actually finished all the way ;;;; i've been thinking of them being stuck in quarantine together for the longest time, and i'm happy that it's finally done <3
> 
> alright a few things:  
> \- based on the quarantine here in the ph, and they are actually in the ph here  
> \- has scenes that talk about illness, a pet being sick, the pet dying  
> \- this is unbetaed and i finished this at an ungodly hour hhhhh
> 
> still, i hope you enjoy!

[ uwian ]

end of the day; the time to go home; to bring home for someone

Taeyong knows this game is a bad idea.

It’s a Friday night, and he has a teambuilding activity tomorrow with his dance class, and he’s here, cross-legged on the floor of Doyoung’s apartment, getting ready to play a drinking game. This was supposed to be a casual little hang-out session where they open a few bottles of wine to pair with their takeout food, and just talk about their week. Just their usual Friday nights.

But Doyoung has been through a more stressful week than usual trying to finish all his writing deadlines, and he says he wants to have a little more fun tonight. Which, usually, would mean them going to a karaoke place and sing until one of them inevitably passes out, but Doyoung wanted to try something new.

“I saw this during one of my procrastination stretches,” he had said, pulling his phone out to look for something. “They had this setup where two people would ask each other questions and if they don’t want to answer, they take a shot. It looks so fun, I swear.”

Gulping down his wine, Taeyong had said, “We don’t have shots though.”

Doyoung had given him a look that said you think we don’t? and Taeyong knows he really shouldn’t have mentioned it. Within minutes, Doyoung had procured a whole six-pack of soju, his grin wide as he set it down on the carpet. Two shot-glasses had followed that, and he seemed absolutely excited about it.

“Just be honest and you don’t have to get drunk.”

Taeyong agreed to it all, the game, the drinking, the fact that he can and will be asked about things he would never say out loud. Maybe it’s his exhaustion from finishing more commission pieces than usual over the week added to the dance classes that he teaches. Maybe he’s already that drunk on his singular glass of wine. Maybe he just can’t resist Doyoung. Whatever the reason, he just agreed.

So now he’s here, sitting knee-to-knee with Doyoung, hoping he doesn’t come to regret this.

"I'll go first," Doyoung says, peering at the question on his phone. "Have you ever disliked anyone I liked or dated?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, Taeyong thinks about it. He runs through everyone he knew his best friend liked or dated, trying to put names to faces.

Taeyong thinks back to all of Doyoung’s crushes over the years, from that loud boy in their Math class that could solve any equation thrown at him, to that other boy in his dance club who moved like he was skipping across water, to that sophomore they met at the college orientation that they never remembered the name of. He also recalls all of Doyoung’s exes, most of which were never really people he’d want to meet ever again.

“Yeah, that guy you dated in our graduating year. Do you remember him?”

Doyoung nods. “Oh, Junwoo? I wish I didn’t.” He laughs, shaking his head.

“He was an ass. He’s lucky I didn’t get the chance to punch him in the face.”

Laughing harder, Doyoung takes another sip of his wine. “I honestly would have let you.”

The phone is handed over to Taeyong, who reads the next question. “Have you ever had a crush on someone I’ve been with? What did you do?”

His best friend looks up, trying to remember if he did. Taeyong feels like he already knows the answer to this, but it’s better that Doyoung answer it himself.

Pointing at him, realization in his eyes, Doyoung says, “...Ten.”f

Taeyong furrows his brows together. “Ten? I thought you didn’t even want to see him that time.”

Doyoung winces a little. “Well… I thought he was cute, and then I thought the both of you were cute together, and I was so single that time…”

Hitting him on the arm, Taeyong chuckles. “God, I can’t believe you.”

With a shrug, Doyoung starts reading the next question. He stifles a laugh, covering his mouth, and Taeyong wonders what it is.

“Have you ever had a sex dream about me? What happened?” Doyoung reads out loud, the corners of his mouth turning up in a shit-eating grin. Taeyong eyes him, and feels the slightest of blushes creep up his cheeks.

Taeyong taps a finger on his chin so that he looks casual. “I mean, nothing too explicit but…”

Doyoung slaps his knee. “Taeyongie!”

“What?” Taeyong fires back, a giggle rising in his chest. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, you know!”

“What happened anyways?”

Taking in a breath, Taeyong thinks back on his dream. At the time, he thought that it was weird that he even had a dream like that, but again, it’s not like he can control what he dreams about.

“It was some time ago, so don’t expect this to be in detail or whatever,” Taeyong begins. Doyoung nods, drinking more of his wine. “We were at the club, one that I couldn’t recognize. Of course, we were drinking and dancing, and I remember having to elbow people away from flirting with you.”

The smirk on Doyoung’s face is so tempting to wipe off. “That was sweet of you. Jealous much?”

Taeyong fixes him with a look, but continues. “Anyways, at some point, I told you that maybe it’s better if we find somewhere quieter.”

An eyebrow shoots up at his words, and Taeyong nearly smacks Doyoung. “Oh wow, wanted me all to yourself huh?” Doyoung asks, his grin even wider.

Sighing, Taeyong tries not to throttle him. “It was just a dream, shut up!”

He feels his cheeks reddening, and Doyoung laughs at the sight, gesturing for him to go on with his story. “So then we got to this room that I couldn’t recognize, but I could still hear the club music somehow. I was so confused, and you were too, but the next thing I knew, you were pressing me against the door-”

Doyoung chokes on a corn chip. “Wait, woah woah. I what?”

“Pressed me against the door and then asked me what I liked…” Taeyong’s voice peters off into a whisper, but he still sees Doyoung’s eyes widen. God fucking dammit.

For a moment, all Doyoung does is gape at him. “Oh my God, Lee Taeyong. What do you like, anyways?”

There’s a pillow chucked into Doyoung’s face the next moment, but he’s still laughing. Taeyong tries to fight down the very obvious flush he has on his face, hoping that he can attribute it to the alcohol. “I hate you,” he says, but there’s no fire in it as he throws chips at Doyoung’s still smiling face.

“No, you don’t,” Doyoung replies, smug. He hands his phone over, and it almost slips through Taeyong’s fingers.

Composing himself, Taeyong reads the next one. “Okay, let’s be serious now. What's one thing you want to change about me?”

When he looks up, Doyoung has his head tilted, staring at him endearingly. Why does he look at him like that? “Let me think for a bit,” Doyoung says softly, and his eyes seem to be scanning Taeyong’s face. Taeyong debates throwing something else at him.

After a few moments, he finally has an answer. “I wish you’d be nicer on yourself sometimes.”

Taeyong takes a shaky breath at that. It was a topic they talked about every now and then, and he’s really been trying to improve on that, but old habits die hard, he guesses.

There were just days that he couldn’t stop it, the way he doubted himself. Taeyong would wish that he’d done more, done better, and it would eat at him for some time. It pushed him to do more the next time, sometimes even pushing his limits, and he knows that Doyoung notices. Doyoung doesn't approve of it most of the time.

He nods, mumbling a soft “I know,” looking down his hands in his lap. Taeyong can feel his best friend’s stare at him, and they’re silent for a few more moments.

“You’re doing great so far though,” Doyoung tells him reassuringly, a hand coming over to squeeze Taeyong’s knee. A corner of Taeyong’s mouth turns up, and he pats Doyoung’s hand.

Taeyong mumbles a “thanks” that he’s sure Doyoung hears, handing over the phone. He drinks some more of his wine, looking up to face his best friend head on, the smallest smile on his face. Doyoung smiles back.

“What did you think about me when you first met me?” Doyoung raises his eyebrows at him, looking like a curious little kid.

He feels himself smile at that. Eleven-year-old Doyoung was gangly and extremely excited about Digimon, and he pretty much talked Taeyong's ear off every single time they shared the weird gloopy spaghetti at the school canteen. Quite the character, really.

“I thought you were pretty loud,” Taeyong says, and Doyoung snorts. “And that you would have some trouble adjusting to my usually quieter classmates, but I was wrong about that.”

"I adjust to anyone, anywhere."

It makes Taeyong chuckle. "Yeah, I got that."

“Okay next one,” Taeyong says. “How would you describe me to someone who’s never met me?”

Now this one, Taeyong is genuinely curious about. He knows that some of Doyoung's friends have heard about him because he'd tell them about Taeyong (and Taeyong did the same, really), but he doesn't know what he'd say to someone who has never met Taeyong.

That's what he wondered when he first met Yuta, a then-boyfriend who is now still a really good friend to the both of them. Yuta was a coworker, someone who, on that casual Sunday lunch, seemed to have heard a substantial amount about Taeyong already.

"Well." Doyoung pouts in thought. "I'd say you're probably the most interesting person out there, and that I still have no idea why we're friends after all these years. Me, boring old me, friends with you? Sounds like a scam, or well, that's what Jungwoo said before."

Laughing, Taeyong flicks a chip at him. "You're not boring. It's just because they haven't heard all of your wild stories yet."

That has Doyoung laughing too. "Really though. I'd say you're pretty cool, in the way that you are willing to learn more about people and you never forget those details, so that they feel appreciated and like they’re important to you. I’d tell them that you’re down for a lot of different things, even if at first you’re a little hesitant. Like, I can bring you to some sorta surprise adventure and you wouldn’t even complain all that much. You’re cool like that.”

Something warm spreads in Taeyong. Must be the wine, because it has him all giddy.

"I'd also tell them you could probably roundhouse kick them in the face if they ever try to mess with someone you care about, so they have to be careful."

Snorting, Taeyong snatches the phone from Doyoung's hands. "Is that what you told Yuta then?"

Doyoung nods enthusiastically. "Mostly," he says, in a tone that implies that he said a few other things. Taeyong isn't sure he wants to know. "He told me he loved you already. I thought I was going to lose the guy I was dating, honestly."

Even when Taeyong gives him a look, Doyoung doesn't waver. He only continues with the next question. "What is my greatest asset physically?”

Once he finishes reading it, Doyoung crosses his arms, pressing his lips together like he's expecting. He can barely hide the smile, looking up while he waits. It's a little ridiculous seeing it on him, but Taeyong thinks it looks a little adorable on him all the same.

“You’ve got a really great smile,” Taeyong says, and sure enough, it breaks Doyoung a little, has him relaxing. “It was one of the first things I really noticed with you, and I’ve seen people almost kill for it.”

Taeyong included. It was wide, with gaps on the sides, and when Doyoung's happy, it feels like his smile alone could light up a whole block. He has hundreds of photos of Doyoung's smile on his phone and in his files, taken over years of knowing each other. It's the same, and Taeyong has always wondered what it would be like to trace it with his fingertips.

He gets playfully shoved, Doyoung giggling. "That's cute. I thought you were gonna say my chest or something."

Taeyong almost splutters on his drink. He coughs, hitting his chest to get it out. "Well, it's a nice chest, if you needed to know that. Full gay, and all."

For a moment, Doyoung fixes a confused look at him, before seeming to have a realization. "It's full homo."

Wincing, Taeyong says, "Sorry, I didn't know! But well, you know my intentions."

Doyoung rests his chin on a hand, letting his eyes flutter closed. "Yes, I'm so happy to know you like my chest. Boobs. Milkers. Whatever."

"Oh my god." Taeyong tosses another throw pillow to his face. "No, just no."

Laughter rings through Taeyong's apartment. Rolling his eyes, Taeyong reaches over for the phone again.

The next question makes his face scrunch. “Oh God. This one’s weird. If you had to eat one part of my body, what part would it be?”

Doyoung's eyebrows shoot up in the way that means he already has an answer, but he's considering not saying it out loud. God, Taeyong hates him.

"Please don't say my ass," Taeyong says, and it makes Doyoung burst out laughing. Some of the soju he was pouring into the shot glass sloshes onto the table.

"Fine." Doyoung looks up, thinking. After a few seconds, his gaze is back on Taeyong, doing a quick once-over. Jokingly, Taeyong crosses his arms protectively over himself.

Tongue in his cheek, Doyoung says, "Thighs. This is weird to say, but you have some pretty meaty ones, so that would probably be best to eat, right?"

It's not like Taeyong is going to argue with that logic. He takes the shot glass that Doyoung offers him, toasting with him and downing the liquid. A part of him wishes he would just pass out before he started blurting out answers he was going to regret airing out.

“Oh I like this question. When was the moment we became best friends?”

After some thought, Taeyong answers, “That day we went to the principal's office together.”

They were both thirteen at the time, just boys with wide smiles on their faces despite the punishment that awaited them. It’s one of the clearer memories Taeyong has of their friendship.

It all started with a very stupid fight. Any other day, any other reason, and Taeyong might not have been up for it.

One of the older kids had pushed down a boy Taeyong’s age, his uniform getting muddied as he went down. The boy was small, thinner than Taeyong, and not even fighting back. It hurt to see him take all the insults, all the hits, and no one else was helping, just watching from the sidelines.

From the whispers of the students, Taeyong and Doyoung found out what happened. The boy on the ground had been slipping love notes into one of the older boys’ lockers. Nobody had a clue who was doing it until that morning, when the younger boy was caught doing it. He was dragged into the middle of the field, and he barely even resisted.

That was the first time Taeyong saw Doyoung’s face darken. His entire body was tense, and Taeyong felt like he’d be swatted away if he tried to hold Doyoung back. Taeyong himself wanted to stop what was happening, but he knew the possibility of him being thrown to the ground by those older boys at least twice his size. Doyoung wasn’t that much bigger than Taeyong either.

Not that it stopped Doyoung, no. He had marched right up to them and punched the one looming over the smaller boy straight in the gut. Taeyong heard the collective gasp from everyone that was there. Lee Doyoung, sunshine incarnate, friend to all, not even scared as he landed a blow that made the older boy double over.

And when another one of the older kids started approaching Doyoung, Taeyong didn’t even need to think. It was against what his father would have let him do, but it didn’t matter.

If Taeyong was going to be honest, he didn’t even remember what he did.

All he knew was that he and Doyoung were called to the principal’s office, their faces dirty and their palms and knees scuffed up. The walk to there was quiet, with what felt like dozens of eyes on them. Neither of them had cared.

Outside that office, with them in the faded plastic chairs, Taeyong started smiling stupidly. They were going to receive a punishment for what they did, plus the inevitable scolding they’d get when they get home, but it felt like it was worth it. Doyoung had looked over at him, confused.

“I’m proud of us,” Taeyong had said, a giggle deep in his chest rising to the surface. “We did pretty well.”

At that, Doyoung had shrugged, but his smile widened by the second. “Thank you for being there, too.”

Taeyong had elbowed him in the ribs. “I’ll always be there, idiot.”

Looking back at it now makes Taeyong grin. He looks over at Doyoung, who looks like he’s reminiscing as well. “Arguably one of our dumbest moments,” Doyoung says.

“But one of our best ones. We did what was right, and I don’t regret a single thing.” Taeyong means it.

Sighing, Doyoung hands over his phone. “Duh, it was the start of all these years of being stupid together.”

If he thinks about it, they have been stupid together forever. They've navigated their teenage years together, and then uni, and then life as adults. They've tripped together and gotten up together, they've laughed, they've cried, they've embraced.

It's always been Doyoung.

Taeyong rubs his hand over his face as he reads the next question, wishing that he didn't have to. “What would it take for us to have sex?”

At that, Doyoung straight up smirks at him, and Taeyong already doesn’t like the answer. “Not much. You just have to ask, you know."

It’s Taeyong that needs to take another swig of his drink. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Look." Oh no, he's got that tone to his voice that means he's going to come up with a logical-sounding reason. Taeyong falls for those reasons all too easily. "We know each other. We trust each other. Hell, we've both talked about what we've done. I think it'll be okay, you know?"

When Taeyong doesn’t reply, Doyoung continues, “Haven’t you thought about fucking me too?”

Taeyong puts down his shot glass before he spills it all over himself. Or chucks it into Doyoung’s perfect, smug face. Either of the two. “Uh, no?”

Okay, not entirely true, but he’s not going to give Doyoung the satisfaction of getting that info.

Doyoung puts a hand over his heart, pretending he’s hurt. “Wow, Taeyongie, after I exposed myself like that? I feel betrayed.”

That earns Doyoung another pillow across the face. “Just read the next question.”

The pillow is thrown back to Taeyong, who catches it neatly. “If someone offered you a billion won to never speak to me again, would you take it?”

Taeyong pretends that he’s considering it, and Doyoung gapes at him. He laughs at Doyoung’s expression, shaking his head no.

“Listen, I’d lie and take it, and then we can split it,” Taeyong answers, and Doyoung holds up his hand. Taeyong high-fives him, before pouring another two shots for them.

“Your turn,” Doyoung says, already sipping from his can.

Scrolling through the questions, Taeyong tries to find an interesting one. “Do you love me? Take a shot if yes,” Taeyong tells him, his knee nudging against Doyoung’s.

“Of course I love you, you ass.” Taeyong’s face brightens up at that, feeling some color coming back to it. Then again, it might be the alcohol.

“Take the shot, then.”

Doyoung snorts, picking up his shot glass and bringing it to his lips. He downs the soju, all too aware of Taeyong cheering him on. Afterwards, he puts it down with an empty clatter, pushing it towards his best friend for a refill.

“Okay, let’s do the last few ones, hm?” At Taeyong’s nod, Doyoung proceeds. “If we were the last two people on Earth, would you date me?”

It's his turn to pale. This question really had to be in there, and Taeyong really, really wished he could have just passed out by now.

Taeyong empties his glass. “Sure, why not? We’d be bored anyways.”

Doyoung nearly throws his phone at him. “You’re just going to date me when you’re bored? Asshole.”

“What? I answered the question.” At Doyoung’s pout, Taeyong can’t help but to pinch his cheek. “Kidding, I’d date you even if I wasn’t bored.”

“Very comforting.”

"What do you want me to say?"

For a little while, Doyoung just looks at him. Then, he shrugs. "I mean, why not?"

It gives Taeyong pause. He can feel his nails scrape a little against the glass. "What do you mean, why not?"

He's not sure if he wants to get an actual answer or to have Doyoung just brush it off and for them to continue with the game.

But things aren't that easy.

"I mean," Doyoung begins, his voice rising in pitch just a bit. "We've been friends forever, and we've dated other people and we've been with each other through all those relationships. We know each other so much better, and we'd do so well, I think. Wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

Taeyong stares at him for a fleeting moment, before looking down at his hands. It was a bad idea, he knew. What Doyoung thought would be harmless, would really actually affect them both.

But they were drunk, and they weren't going to remember this in the morning, so a part of Taeyong says it's fine. It'll be fine.

"You want to try?" he confirms, searching his best friend's face. There's something determined there, something that looks like hope, and Taeyong starts to swear to himself that he won't drink next time.

He gets a nod. "It's just us. If it works, then we decide where to go from there. If it doesn't work, we break it off. Simple, and I know we can do it."

Something settles in the pit of Taeyong's stomach. He feels his insides twist, and it's like his lungs have refused to work for the time being.

Simple. Doyoung believes it'll be simple.

Taeyong can only nod and proceed with the game.

“Last question, right?” Taeyong says, eyes already reading the question. He hears a sound of affirmation from his best friend.

“It says here to sit on my lap and stare at me intimately for a whole minute or to take a shot."

As soon as Taeyong looks up, Doyoung is already getting up, ready to sit on his lap. Soon enough, he has a lapful of a heavy, fairly muscular man, whose arms are winding around his neck and whose warmth is engulfing all of Taeyong.

Unconsciously, Taeyong wraps his own arms around Doyoung’s waist, securing him in his place. Doyoung laughs breathlessly at that, squirming a little in Taeyong’s lap.

“Wow, possessive much?” he teases.

Taeyong glares at him. “Shut up and start the timer.”

Doyoung hums, tapping away at his phone. When he puts it away and stares into Taeyong’s eyes, Taeyong can’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s laughing too.

“This is the weirdest thing we’ve done.”

“I think you’ve forgotten about the time we had to shove our hands down that toilet in your house because your sister dropped her favorite bracelet.”

Taeyong slaps his ass at that, which makes Doyoung laugh even more. “No, I meant, this is weird in a whole different way.”

Doyoung looks like he’s about to say something, but he holds himself back. Instead, he replies, “A minute’s so long, huh?”

Nodding, Taeyong tries to focus on the other features of Doyoung’s face. His irritatingly perfect brows, his nose that slopes so nicely, his full lips and his soft cheeks. Those eyes that always seem to be full of mischief, dark and soft and so familiar. Taeyong has known this face for years, and yet it feels like he never really looked at it.

But it’s the same one he’s seen smeared with mud and grime, the same one he’s smeared cake icing over, the same one that’s been in a whole album’s worth of photos, the same one he used to see every morning in his apartment. It’s Kim Doyoung’s same face, but now, with the shitty lighting and the alcohol in his veins, Taeyong thinks he’s never seen it be this pretty.

“You’re staring,” Doyoung tuts at him, grinning again.

“As if you aren’t doing the same.”

“You got me on that one.”

The minute ends soon after, and Doyoung clambers off of him. They have a final toast of glasses, finishing off their drinks.

Somehow, they have enough sense to at least stumble into Taeyong’s bedroom, where they crash onto the bed. It’s a much more forgivable option than them passing out on the floor again, and Taeyong watches as Doyoung snuggles into his sheets, breathing deeply.

For a while, they mumble about different things, just small talk as they slowly drift into sleep. Taeyong’s bed is big enough that they don’t have to squeeze together, but they get pretty close anyways.

“Doyoung?” Taeyong asks, so soft he’s not sure the other heard. He’s not even sure if Doyoung is still awake.

“Mmm?” comes the response, muffled by a pillow.

Taeyong takes a deep breath, staring straight at his ceiling. “Doyoung, tell me honestly. Do you want to go through with that? The whole...dating thing?"

He doesn’t know what to do with whatever answer Doyoung gives him, hell, he doesn’t even know why he asked the question. What does he get for it, anyways? They're drunk, and they were just playing around, really.

All Taeyong knows is that he’s been thinking about it for a while, but never really asked it. Something about being scared, or about not wanting to know.

Taeyong doesn’t know if he should be thankful that Doyoung doesn’t answer.

* * *

He's not the first to wake up.

Groaning, he flips over to his other side, not quite sure how he woke up. There's a slight pounding in his head that he scowls at, as if that would make it feel better. Distantly, he registers that there's a hand on his side, both soothing and attempting to wake him up, he guesses.

Next thing he knows is that there's a hand under his head and a glass of water pressed to his lips. Gentle words are there somewhere, but he can't quite register what is being said quite yet. He just drinks the water and nods like he understands.

A blanket is pulled up to his chin, and there's a pat on his hip. The pillow is cool against his cheek, and he sinks into it. It would be so easy to drift back into sleep like this.

But he doesn't.

No, Taeyong slowly blinks his eyes open, staring at the pale gray of his curtains. There's a tiny bit of light that peeks through them, but Doyoung must have thought of keeping them mostly closed for his sake.

 _Doyoung._ The space where he had been in last night still has remnants of his warmth as Taeyong runs his knuckles over it. He's not surprised that his best friend had already gotten up, and was most likely eating some form of breakfast from what Taeyong still has in is fridge. Doyoung's always been better at handling his drink.

Slowly, Taeyong turns to lie down on his back and stare at his ceiling. Some of the throbbing in his temples has subsided, but maybe it's best if he didn't get up just yet.

He's just dreading the fact that he has to go to the teambuilding activity today when he hears the door open quietly. Doyoung has a tray in his hand, walking over to the bed to set the contents down gently beside Taeyong.

"You didn't have to-" Taeyong begins, and his voice sounds like hell to his ears.

Doyoung shakes his head, but winces a bit with the motion. "It's alright. You need to eat."

With much effort, and Doyoung's assistance, Taeyong gets himself upright. He sees that Doyoung has prepared him egg toast and a bowl of instant ramen, still nice and warm. There's also a cup of something on Taeyong's side table, and he guesses that it's coffee.

"Have you eaten?" he asks as Doyoung climbs back into bed carefully, pulling his knees to his chest. "Sorry, I don't think I'll be very useful this morning."

Head on Taeyong's headboard, Doyoung gives him a weak little smile. "Yongie, I've been friends with you forever. I know how bad your hangovers are." He blindly reaches for a pillow to hug to himself. "Besides, I'd rather not be useful today either."

Taeyong pokes him on the side. "Thank you," he whispers. It makes his best friend smile a little wider.

For a while, they're quiet as Taeyong slowly gets through his breakfast. He thinks that Doyoung dozes off at some point during that, so he doesn't try to disturb him either.

Halfway done with his toast, Taeyong does his best to remember what had happened the night before. He remembers pretty much all of it, which is great, but also not that great. Remembering most of it means that he recalls that little proposal of sorts.

Maybe Doyoung's forgotten about it already. He was less affected by the alcohol, definitely, but he must have brushed it off by now. God, Taeyong hopes so.

It's a joke, right? They weren't in their right minds, with exhaustion and the wine and soju in them. It was just not the time to be discussing things like dating. Or, well, trying out dating anyways.

Dating Doyoung. Taeyong silently chuckles to himself. That wasn't going to happen in a million -

"Yongie," Doyoung murmurs, and it sounds like he's just talking in his sleep. "Yongieeee."

"What?"

Opening his eyes just a bit, Doyoung looks straight at him. "Are we going to date?"

Taeyong nearly chokes on his bite of bread. He sees Doyoung's eyes fly open, so he holds up a hand to tell him to wait as he gulps down his coffee. Truthfully, he's really just buying time.

He doesn't have an answer, plain and simple. But Doyoung's going to want one.

"Uh. You remember that then?"

His best friend hums, hugging the pillow closer to himself. "Yeah." He sniffles, digging his fingers into the pillow. "I do."

Taeyong drinks more of his coffee. He feels it start to make him buzz, and he flexes his fingers to get some feeling back into them.

"Are we going to date?" Taeyong repeats, a little breathless. Maybe he should just laugh it off so that this conversation ends.

"We don't have to, you know," Doyoung says, giving a slight shrug. "I just...I just wanted to confirm. Because really, we can try. And not just because we're bored or anything."

Stirring at his ramen, Taeyong thinks about it. He's really not in the best state to answer, and Doyoung seems to sense it.

"Again, we don't have to. Last night got us all over the place, I doubt we were actually serious about it."

When Taeyong looks up at him, Doyoung already has his gaze on him. It's full of that gentle understanding that he always has, and it chips away at Taeyong.

He goes back to staring at his food. "Sure."

There's several beats of silence, which he guesses is Doyoung trying to decipher if he means it. "Sure?"

Nodding, Taeyong brings a bite of ramen up to his mouth. "You said it was just going to be us trying, right? Let's try then."

He can feel Doyoung examine him for a while longer, just to be absolutely certain. Taeyong hopes that he doesn't see anything that he's not supposed to.

"Okay. From now on, we're dating. I'll plan our first date, I promise!" His tone is bright, a teeny bit hopeful almost, as he says that and proceeds to slump back into sleep in Taeyong's bed.

Once Taeyong is done with his food, he takes his dishes to the sink to wash them. He feels better now, and he knows that it will improve even more after he's had a shower. That teambuilding activity will be doable, at least.

The dishes are washed and put on the rack to dry, and Taeyong leans against the counter. He's going to date his best friend. He's going to date Doyoung.

Taeyong isn't sure what he got himself into.

* * *

"I promise that this isn't too fancy for us," Doyoung says, all gummy smile as he leads Taeyong to where they were supposed to have the date.

He looks exceptionally soft today. There's an oversized checkered shirt over his tee, his jeans old and worn, his sneakers a bit scuffed. The wind is blowing his hair this way and that, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much.

Doyoung is excited about today. Granted, they really haven't gotten much time together the past few months because of work and just their general lives being too packed. It's the first time they're doing something that is not just drinking to forget their work woes, and by how Doyoung seems to be almost bouncing on his heels, their first time at whatever place he's bringing Taeyong too.

It's their first date, and it's still a little difficult to wrap his mind around the whole thing.

They've discussed the whole arrangement more once they had clear heads and rest. They decided that it would be good to approach this the way they normally would when they were dating someone, and that included actual dates, and actual wooing, actual flirting, and other stuff that couples did. Both of them had laughed at that idea, the wooing and the flirting. Doyoung had said that they'd probably do a terrible job at it, and Taeyong agreed.

One thing to woo someone they were really interested in, and a completely other thing to woo your childhood best friend. They had even practiced flirting, but that really just ended in them laughing at each other.

It seemed like this would be easy, ideal. This was Doyoung, who he was most comfortable with. Getting into a relationship with him should be the easiest thing ever.

A part of Taeyong knows it won't quite be that.

Still, he lets himself be led by the hand to what looks like a café, with the brightly colored awning and the cutesy sign. _Pup Cups,_ it reads. Taeyong has barely peered through the windows when Doyoung pretty much hauls him excitedly inside.

The airconditioning pretty much hits Taeyong full force. February had been abnormally cold, and it had leeched into March, and him, thinking it would be well into the summer, forgot to bring a jacket. He rubs at his arms as Doyoung goes to talk to the receptionist. A quick look around the place and Taeyong realizes that it's a dog cafe, with a variety of dogs either skittering around or settling into people's laps. He spots a golden retriever chew enthusiastically on a toy when Doyoung gently pulls him out of his thoughts and fastens a paper bracelet around his wrist.

They take off their shoes and put them into a locker, Doyoung pocketing the key. Taeyong's fuzzy socks aren't much of a match against the cold wood floor.

"Ready?" Doyoung asks, as if they're going on a rollercoaster ride rather than a whole horde of dogs. Taeyong snickers, sliding his hand into his.

They find a free spot in a corner, all throw pillows on soft fake grass and a picnic blanket. A server gives them their iced drinks, set on a table out of reach for any of the dogs. Doyoung's knee bumps against his when they sit down, and they take a glance at all the dogs.

A shih tzu pads over to them, sniffing curiously at their socks. Doyoung reaches out to pet him gently, but the dog hides behind Taeyong's knee.

Pouting, Doyoung withdraws his hand. "I think I'm not great with dogs."

Chuckling softly, Taeyong scratches the shih tzu behind the ears. He relaxes a little, settling onto the fake grass. "They're just not used to you. That's how most dogs are."

"But they approach you so easily," he whines, but he's taking out his phone to take photos.

Taeyong shrugs, looking at the dog curled up beside him. He's tiny, mottled brown and white, fur soft. They didn't check out the dog's names at the counter and the chart with the photos and names of each dog is too far from where they are, so Taeyong doesn't know what to call this dog. Instead, he just softly coos at him, scratching at him until he falls asleep.

Not a lot of people are here today, probably because of how there is already some fear about the virus in the past few weeks. Reasonable, Taeyong thinks. He's been wearing masks for the past two months and he's been doing his best to wash his hands when he can. It was a little change, but they needed to minimize the risk, even though there's not a lot of fear about it right now.

The place is pretty nice though. Done up in all bright colors and soft surfaces, dogs playing and sleeping everywhere. Fairy lights are intertwined with fake vines on the columns, giving everything a dreamy glow. A wall on the far side has dozens of polaroids and sticky notes from patrons. He wonders what it's like to see this cafe full of people, all the chatter and the dogs walking around.

"Why'd you choose this place?" Taeyong asks, reaching for his drink and taking a sip. The shih tzu raises his head to stare at him curiously.

"I saw it on Instagram and it was cute..." Another dog is making their way to them, a mini dachshund. It also sniffs at Doyoung's sock, and Doyoung is trying to keep still so as not to scare the dog off. Taeyong has to swallow his laugh. "Plus, Jungwoo said you'd enjoy this type of thing."

"Taking relationship advice from Jungwoo, now?" He's still petting the shih tzu when he stands up, walking away. They both watch him leave, and Doyoung seems sad about it. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Doyoung nudges at him. "Hey. He's good at it. Also apparently he knows what you'd like for a date."

At this, Taeyong really laughs. He gently picks up the dachshund and sets her in Doyoung's lap. Doyoung is a little surprised, but he starts to pet her as carefully as he can, like he's afraid she'll run away from him.

"You had to ask him? Doyoung, you're the one I've been friends with for what, nearly two decades?"

"Look, I was nervous!"

Even though Taeyong just laughs it off, he's actually trying his hardest not to tuck that little bit of information into his heart. Kim Doyoung, nervous about a date with him? He wouldn't have ever thought. If he thinks about it too much, he knows he'll start flushing pink.

Instead of mulling over that, he tries to look if any other dogs are going to approach them. There's quite a lot of them at this cafe, with a few lingering close by the patrons that are sitting at tables. All of them are really just doing their own thing, if not practicing tricks with the staff.

He points to a border collie getting treats every time she does a high five. "That's a pretty dog!"

Doyoung looks up from where he's trying to read the dog tag on the dachshund. "Oooh. I think her name is Oreo."

"Oreo huh?" Taeyong wants her to come close to them. "Oreo looks so soft."

They stay at the cafe for about two hours, taking photos with the dogs and occasionally getting them close enough to pet and play with. The dachshund, named Daisy apparently, stays in Doyoung's lap, and Doyoung takes about three dozen photos of her. And then he takes about five shots of Taeyong, two of which are blurry at best. Doyoung promises that he'll take better ones, and Taeyong really isn't counting on it.

There's still some of their drinks left when they leave the cafe, and they drink it while they stroll around the little cluster of shops. It really is quieter, and coupled with the surprisingly cold air in February, it feels peaceful.

Somehow, Doyoung's checkered shirt ends up on Taeyong's shoulders (it almost always does, but Taeyong still wonders how that happens). The sun is starting to set and Taeyong knows he has work to finish when he gets back home, but he can stay a little longer.

Bumping shoulders with him, he thinks about how Doyoung picked a pretty good date.

* * *

Today, Doyoung is moving in. Kind of.

Well, more of he's just bringing some clothes and an extra pillow and an extra toothbrush. He's still free to come back to his apartment, but he made a fair point when he said that this was closer to his workplace anyways. Plus, Taeyong appreciates the free ride he can get to work too, so really, everybody wins.

All Doyoung brings is a duffel bag and his laptop. That's really it, and everything fits nicely into the guest room he's going to stay in. Admittedly, though, a little weird that someone Taeyong's supposedly dating is staying at the guest room and not with him, but nothing about this is entirely the way that things are normally.

And because Doyoung seems like he wants to really try, he cooks dinner. Came in with armfuls of grocery bags, saying he'll take care of it and that Taeyong should just sit back and relax. Which, of course, Taeyong isn't going to say no to. He needed some extra time to work on his lesson plans anyways.

Sitting at his dining table, he has a pretty good view of Doyoung pattering around the kitchen. Taeyong tries not to look that often, promise, but sometimes he spaces out and stares into the distance, and his usually empty kitchen has his best friend there, cooking for him.

It really shouldn't be anything new. Doyoung comes over often and stress cooks, feeding Taeyong while he rants about work. Or, on the rare occasion that their friends chose Taeyong's apartment as the place to hold a dinner party or whatever, he takes care of some of the dishes while Taeyong did the bulk of it. So this, he should be used to this.

But he's not. Taeyong tells himself that it's because it's been a while, and he's not used to it anymore. Or maybe he's just thinking too much about how this arrangement will change things. Watching Doyoung cook for him as his boyfr–

Taeyong tells himself to focus on his Google Sheets. His lesson plan needed some revisions after the curriculum changed, and he really needs to get this done before Monday. Ten is gonna have his neck if he doesn't.

In the middle of typing his new class requirements, he hears singing. It's gentle but bright, the way that Doyoung sings when he's busy on something he enjoys. Taeyong looks up from his laptop, gaze trained on the way that his best friend is moving through the kitchen like he knows it like the back of his hand. The singing peters off at times when he's adjusting the knobs on the stove or when he's transferring the food, but it doesn't completely stop.

Honestly, Taeyong hasn't seen him be this lively in a while. He's reminded of Doyoung in uni, running on whatever the hell he put into his drink in the morning and sheer willpower. That Doyoung could crank out a 5-page essay in less than an hour and manage to make instant ramen somewhat healthy and filling within whatever time he had left in that hour. That Doyoung could submit a project on time and then go to a bar with friends straight after. That Doyoung had productivity plus a social life that Taeyong could only wish for.

And that Doyoung is all but completely gone, just that same smile and his intolerance to coffee remaining. Taeyong isn't sure if he missed that Doyoung, if he were to be honest.

Taeyong should really go back to his work.

Later, when Doyoung tells him the food's ready and he scurries to get his laptop off the table, Taeyong looks at him. He's quieter, a little older, a little less lanky, a lot more gentle. He says Taeyong's name the same way, and he still cooks Taeyong's favorite pasta.

And when they toast their glasses of sparkling grape juice, the same way they've done since they were in uni and could only afford the cheap stuff, Taeyong thinks he really does like this Doyoung too, and he doesn't mind having him here.

* * *

"No, eomma, I don't think it'll be good if we do that."

Doyoung pops his head through the doorway, his brows furrowed in curiosity. In his hands are his work papers. Taeyong just shakes his head.

"I know it would be fun, but it's risky. There have been a few confirmed cases already, and staying in that cramped bus for several hours..."

At this, Doyoung's face crumples a little more. Taeyong is really going to need to explain.

He paces his room, looking momentarily out the window. The people in the apartment building across from theirs are hanging up laundry, just normal everyday things. It's a regular day, everyone's pretty relaxed. Taeyong keeps pacing.

"I really don't know, eomma." He rubs his hand down his face, trying to shake off the feeling that Doyoung's staring at him. "I don't know if it'll be safe for us, okay? Let's just...not do it. Just for now. We'll observe how the situation is after a while."

The call ends not very long after, but Taeyong thinks it feels like forever. He doesn't like denying his mom's requests, but things are different. The virus they were all acting nonchalant about is getting very much real and could hit close to home if they even try to travel now.

He sits on the edge of his bed, setting his phone down. Doyoung pads easily into the room, the bed dipping when he sits down. There's no prodding, though, because Taeyong must look distressed.

After a while, though, he presses his knuckles into Taeyong's thigh. "Everything okay?"

Shaking his head, Taeyong sighs. "My uncle is coming home from the States. He's going to Bicol for our relatives there, and eomma wants us to go and meet him, even for just the weekend. I told her we shouldn't right now."

"You're right." Doyoung doesn't add to that.

"Doesn't mean I feel less bad about what I just had to do."

He knows that his uncle coming home is very important to his mom. This was his mom's brother, someone she hasn't seen in person for close to a decade. And really, he would've wanted to go, but he would really rather not go on a trip and end up with his entire family infected.

God, even his sister told him he's being paranoid, that everything will be alright, it won't hurt, but Taeyong isn't going to budge. He wasn't going to risk it.

"It's a hard decision." Doyoung pats at his knee. "I mean, I'd want to travel too, take a break, but it's not a good time right now."

In the living room, the TV is still on, the news program soft from where they are. He can still pick up on some of the words, saying stuff like "suspected" and "quarantine" and "cases". Taeyong twists his fingers together.

"If it gets better after a while, I'll take her wherever. I promise that."

He can see Doyoung's mouth quirk up into a smile. "You're always too good, Taeyong."

Shoulders slumping, he pouts. "I don't think my family thinks that right now."

An arm is around him, pulling him close. Doyoung smells like green tea and fresh laundry, and Taeyong sinks into it just a little. The phone call drained him, and he's just now feeling the effects.

"They'll thank you for it in the future, hopefully. You made the right decision, don't feel too bad, okay?"

He nods, letting himself be held. "I'll try."

It makes Doyoung chuckle. He rubs at Taeyong's arm, pulling away just a bit so he can look at him. "Come on, I think we both need some food."

Taeyong follows him out of his room, trying to forget about the phone call for now.

* * *

The lockdown is announced while Taeyong is on the way home from work. He knows, because he gets about 20 different texts, mostly from Ten. He expected the lockdown to happen of course, but they had an important exam the next day and pretty much half the faculty is scrambling. They needed to get the students who lived in on-campus dorms home, they needed to disinfect as soon as possible, and they needed to figure things out. It wasn't going to be easy.

Taeyong also gets a text from Doyoung. It just asks him if he would want to get picked up from the school, but Taeyong's already on his way. He's got his mask on and is hoping that this ride will be as quick as possible.

Doyoung then tells him to keep safe and that he'll try to get groceries later, because they are probably going to have a hard time getting those over the next few days. That text sends a spike of fear into Taeyong, because they honestly don't have a whole lot of supplies back at the apartment right now, so he tells Doyoung that he'll try too.

He can feel it, the way that everybody's tense about this. Everyone's going to be rushing home, trying to get to the groceries, trying to get into public transportation, trying to call their family and friends. Each passing minute feels like they're even more at risk and the paranoia is going to start to sink in. Taeyong doesn't like this at all.

The ride is an excruciating 30 minutes, and Taeyong has already mentally prepared himself for the very possible warzone in the grocery store. Just walking up to it, he can see the line snaking outside, and god, there has never been a line outside.

Gritting his teeth, Taeyong tells himself that he can do this. He'll get as much as he can from his list, and he'll get himself out of there as quickly as possible. The store will close early, he knows, and it might be packed over the next few days when it does open. It's gonna be even harder to buy necessities then.

When he's about 5 people away from the entrance, his phone pings. It's Doyoung, saying he's coming to this grocery too. Taeyong is about to tell him that the line is too long now and he's not sure if they'll be allowed to go in together, but Doyoung follows up with a text saying that he'll buy things separately so that they can hopefully get more stuff once combined. It sounds like a good plan.

Once he's inside, Taeyong knows this is a horrible idea. There are way too many people and the lines are long and this cannot possibly be safe for anyone here. He knows this store has particularly strong airconditioning, but it sure doesn't feel like it.

He also knows that this store is pretty well-stocked most of the time, but he has a strong feeling that's not gonna last. There aren't even any carts or baskets anymore, and Taeyong hopes to whatever god is out there that he gets through this mostly alive.

Somehow he manages to snag the last bottle of alcohol and a considerable amount of food (at least as much as his arms can carry) and he's making his way to the lines for the registers. One of the staff gets him a basket, and he thanks them again and again. While he waits in line, he tries to look around the store. No sign of Doyoung anywhere, but he bets he's dashing through the store best as he can too.

After what feels like an eternity in the line for the checkout, Taeyong is finally free from that grocery store. He's debating on texting Doyoung to ask where he is when he feels the lightest tap on his shoulder.

Turning, he sees his best friend, sweating and looking a little dazed. Taeyong absolutely understands the feeling.

"Ready to go?" Doyoung asks, a little muffled under his mask.

He nods yes, and they maneuver their way through the parking lot to get to Doyoung's car. They stuff whatever groceries they got into the trunk, then opening the doors to get inside. It's still warm in Doyoung's car, but Taeyong doesn't care as he takes his mask off and breathes in a lungful of air.

For a while, Doyoung doesn't start the car, just sits there and breathes. Taeyong watches as even more people add to the already long line snaking out of the entrance of the store. That store will close earlier today than usual, so no one is really sure about who will even make it inside.

"This is the start, huh?" Doyoung asks, his eyes trained on where Taeyong is looking too. His voice is grave.

"It's not a zombie movie, we'll be fine." Taeyong reaches for his seatbelt, fastening it with his sweaty hands. "Let's just hope that the crowd eases over the next few days."

Doyoung makes a sound to say that he doubts it, and Taeyong doesn't have much of an answer to that. 

* * *

"Two whole tablespoons of black coffee? Isn't that a little too much?"

"It's what the recipe said, I don't know!"

With a frown, Doyoung measures out the two tablespoons and dumps it into the mixing bowl. He measures out the sugar too, putting a little more in because god knows he hates coffee. Already, Taeyong can smell the coffee, and he inhales it with a sigh.

After weeks of watching people cope by making whipped coffee, they both caved. Doyoung went to the grocery for fresh milk, and Taeyong unearthed his last jar of good instant coffee for this. It's also a blessing that Taeyong found that electric mixer his sister gave him a couple of Christmases ago, because he doubts Doyoung would even be up to hand-whipping this thing.

He hands him the cold water while he's peering at the recipe again. They had long said that this whole dalgona coffee thing was a sham and way too much work, but here they are, mere moments away from making it. The restlessness was getting to them.

Doyoung moves to plug in the mixer. "This better be fucking delicious."

Laughing, Taeyong turns the mixer on. He starts it slow, careful not to let the mixture go flying everywhere. Even Doyoung is leaning back a little, even though there's not much of a possibility of him getting hit.

Once it starts to become a lighter color, he transfers the mixer into Doyoung's hands. Hesitantly, Doyoung continues, making circles through the mixture with the mixer blades.

"How long are we supposed to do this?" Doyoung asks over the loud whirr.

Shrugging, Taeyong unlocks his phone to look at the recipe again. “It says it might take 8 minutes. I'd say just until we get stiff peaks."

"Not sure what that looks like but sure."

He's not sure that Doyoung sees when he rolls his eyes, but he's sure that he must have felt it somehow. A corner of Doyoung's mouth is quirked down in concentration as he tries to get the coffee and sugar to start stiffening. Taeyong does his best not to poke at that corner.

The mixer is turned up to a higher level. "What if this isn't good?" Doyoung shouts over the noise.

"I'll drink it anyway," Taeyong assures. It makes Doyoung nod, going back to what he's doing.

Truthfully, if it wasn't good, Taeyong was never going to trust another TikTok recipe ever again, even though he had already been eyeing those damn mini pancakes.

However, it is pretty nice to watch Doyoung try this out. Doyoung cooked, but he was barely if ever adventurous. So, getting him to do trendy stuff and sample it with him is admittedly fun.

Even more fun when Doyoung turns off the mixer to check the consistency and pretty much _scowls_ at the whipped coffee like it personally offends him, sending Taeyong into a fit of giggles. Doyoung gives him a look for that, but he turns the mixer back on and starts to whip again.

It was early in the quarantine, and Taeyong still isn't absolutely absolutely sure how to feel about this. Sure, they agreed to live in together, but things weren't quite the same anymore. They weren't going to go to their offices for the meantime, they weren't going to be allowed to meet up with friends or family, they wouldn't be allowed to go out on dates. It's just them now, in Taeyong's apartment, trying to adjust to this.

Taeyong knows it's going to take time for the both of them. Doesn't matter that Doyoung has been practically staying with him for years, they were going to need to get used to how much _living together_ they're going to have to be doing.

To make himself useful, Taeyong goes to the fridge to take out the ice cubes. He's tried not to think too much about it, really. Things were going to go back to normal soon. They were going to go back to their lives soon.

As Doyoung makes a disgusted sound when tasting the whipped mixture, Taeyong wonders just how soon that will be.

* * *

One particular moment Taeyong is not that proud about: Buying a Switch solely for Animal Crossing.

Okay, to be fair, he _will_ get other games. Of course he would. It's just that when he was checking the Switch out, Animal Crossing was the only game in mind.

Also, he's wanted the Switch for a bit, so he can let himself off the hook for now.

Another particular moment that Taeyong is not proud about: Doyoung having to pull him out of his blanket cocoon to remind him to be a functional human being.

To be absolutely fair, he had been playing it for a little too long. He's not entirely sure if he actually had breakfast or he just imagined the whole thing, and he has no idea when he last put some liquid into his body. Doyoung scolds him just a bit, enough for him to reevaluate his life decisions as he eats the already-cold pasta.

Surprisingly, though, Doyoung doesn't make him stop. No, Doyoung just comes into Taeyong's room and pokes at his hunched over form and tells him that he needs to sleep or eat or drink water or take a nice cold bath. Sometimes, he even sits on Taeyong's bed, watching over him quietly like he's worried that Taeyong will just spontaneously collapse or something.

Which, okay, maybe he's not too far off from doing that.

"You don't have to stay with me, you know," Taeyong says gently, putting down his Switch.

That gets him a nod and a little twist of the lip. Doyoung's eyes train over to where Taeyong is decorating his island. "I...just don't know what to do."

Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek. They were only about a month into quarantine, and he knows that even Doyoung, a homebody, is getting antsy. It's been mostly them spending their time occupying themselves any way they could, but it wasn't going to work in the long term. At some point, that wasn't going to go well for either of them.

"You can...try to play my game?" Taeyong suggests, sliding his controller over. It's a simple enough game, and it's pretty calming too. That's what was great about it, it just didn't feel demanding at all and he could just sit back and play it.

Doyoung looks at it again. "Uh. I'm not really a gaming type of person, I might do something wrong to your...house."

Chuckling, Taeyong pauses his game. "I think we should get used to not doing much while we're in here."

Easier said than done, he knows. They were both workaholics in their own way, used to stress and deadlines and staying productive most days of the week. Even on weekends, they barely if ever let the day go to waste.

Now, with both their jobs on a temporary hold, it was starting to really get to them. He doesn't want to think about how much worse it would be the longer they're stuck here.

He thinks that Doyoung will say something like he can't _not_ do anything, but instead, he scoots over closer. "Show me how you play the game. I want to see." There's a genuine determination in his voice, and Taeyong finds it cute.

Doyoung approaches Animal Crossing like he's going to have a tournament, and that's such a _him_ thing to do.

He shows Doyoung how to play it, all the little items and the villagers and his island. There's a little glimmer of childlike wonder in Doyoung's eyes, and it makes Taeyong feel a little less sluggish.

Later, Taeyong eats dinner with him, for the first time in a week or so. Doyoung is a little caught up in the game still, but he doesn't mind. The dinner is warm and good, another one of their experiments that they pulled from an Instagram influencer's recipe blog. They're doing something together, and maybe they should do this a little more often.

* * *

Rooting through his closet, Taeyong looks for where he stashed that particular bag. "I know it's here somewhere."

Doyoung is horizontal on his bed, enjoying Kart Rider on Taeyong's phone. "I thought you saw it the other day?"

Yeah, Taeyong did, and now he's not sure where it is again. He mentally curses his past self for putting things into a bag and just forgetting about it.

Unlike him, Doyoung isn't frazzled at all. He's already changed into his outfit for the day, a simple shirt tucked into jeans that Taeyong painted for him last year. There's a denim jacket on the couch that he'll wear over this outfit, and he's done.

Meanwhile, Taeyong is in his sleep shorts and possibly his rattiest pajama top, his hair sticking out in tufts. He honest to god thought he was going to be more prepared for this day.

"Didn't you already have an outfit planned like, months ago? You kept sending me links to clothes and accessories then." Doyoung is on his stomach now, still engrossed in the game. "What happened to those cuffed pants you got?"

Taeyong tilts his jaw towards a corner in his room. "I've unearthed them. Still needs some ironing though."

He can feel his best friend staring at him. "This really matters to you." It's not a question.

His hand stills for a moment before he continues looking. Taeyong knows his flag is here somewhere. "Yeah, it does."

They were going to have a mini Pride celebration at home, on the day that there was supposed to be a Pride march in the city. Taeyong had been super excited about it, especially since he had missed the last few ones due to some work matters. He was so ready, with his outfit prepared, he already talked to his friends about where they'd party after, he had even gotten a bag ready with all sorts of Pride pins. He was absolutely ready for it.

And, well, of course he knows that logically they should not be outside right now, but he kind of wishes that they were able to do the march this year. Even not as large-scale as it was planned to be, he'd take it.

It's just that halfway through the year and Taeyong feels like absolute crap. He doesn't really leave his bed, he doesn't really do much but burn his eyeballs out playing games or maybe browsing through YouTube and Netflix, and he genuinely feels like he's wasting away. There are days when he pushes himself to dance, just to get himself back to it, but it just feels off.

He tries though. God, he tries. Taeyong thinks that if he doesn't stop trying to live he might just cease to.

And this. If they had been able to go to a Pride March this year, he might honestly feel so much better about this year. Surrounding himself with people who are happy, who are just having the time of their lives, holding hands with his friends, basking in the multi-colored _everything_ and all the festivities, he _knows_ it would make things better.

Not that he can do any of those anytime soon. This lockdown has been extended, and it looks like it won't end within the year with how the government was handling the whole thing.

It's what frustrates him the most. Three months into this whole thing, and they don't seem to have a concrete plan. They just keep pushing back the date of when they expect things to become normal-ish while also not really implementing enough measures to make sure that the virus doesn't spread even more. A few cases have popped up in Taeyong's part of the neighborhood and he honestly feels like punching someone.

Everyone says that they should just be patient, but it's hard to do that when he knows that nothing is really being done. It's all on how the citizens should be careful and none of it is on how the goddamn Department of Health is handling this. Which, for the record, is doing an absolutely shit job.

God, Taeyong needs to be held.

The thing is, it's been more than three months into this quarantine, and he _really_ needs to hug people. He needs to talk to them, to just wordlessly come up to them and wrap his arms around them, to laugh with them at milk tea shops, to hold hands while they walk through places together. He wants to text Ten and just go for a run together. He knows he misses things all too easily, but this, this feels so much worse.

It's not just that even. He wants to go back to work, to teach, to feel the sun streaming through his classroom. He wants to get dragged to the eateries and fill himself up with sisig and siomai. He wants to nestle into his uni jacket in his office, talking to Seulgi about the upcoming cheerdance competition.

He wants to... He wants to walk out of his apartment and just be able to walk around the block to clear his head. All he's been doing these months is staying cooped up in this apartment unless he needs to go do groceries and he hasn't cried in a while and he's sure it's gonna drive him mad.

He feels tears slip out of his eyes. Taeyong wipes at them quickly, but they just keep coming. He feels too warm and so fucking frustrated and three months is way too fucking much.

Taeyong doesn't even register Doyoung coming close to him until there's a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears. He hears the dull thud of Doyoung's knees as he settles down next to him, and he can feel the way that he's being looked at.

"Hey." His thumb is warm, swiping at the wetness. "Are you alright?"

Taeyong does his best to nod, but it comes out too shaky. "I just... I just wanted to have something nice and bright. My apartment feels too bare and too beige and I need some color in my life and I can't find my damn flag –"

The tears choke him, and he can't even talk properly anymore. Doyoung holds him in his hands, taking care to give him space to breathe. It's so stupid to cry about this right now, he knows, and he keeps trying to make himself stop.

"I get it, I get it," Doyoung says gently. "I'll help you look for it, okay? Here, I'll do it."

Doyoung breaks away, starting to rummage through the bags. He's hurried but determined, practically diving through the pile. Taeyong sits there, still feeling a few tears roll down his cheeks, unsure of what to do.

It's embarrassing, really, to just have a breakdown on a supposedly happy day. Even more embarrassing that he just wants Doyoung to hold him the whole day if he could.

Taeyong just looks down at his hands.

"It means a lot to you, I know," Doyoung says, standing up to get the bags from a higher shelf. "You were really excited about this."

Slowly, he clenches and unclenches his fingers, sniffling. "I was."

For a few beats, Doyoung doesn't say anything, just goes through the mounds of bags. Taeyong is even more embarrassed, he had forgotten that he had this much. He should really be the one to do this, but he finds himself rooted to the spot, still sniffling a little.

While Doyoung opens the bags, Taeyong tries to arrange the ones that don't have the flag. Just to have them out of the way at least and make himself useful. Doyoung doesn't even look too ruffled as he wades through the mess of leather and canvas.

Taeyong puts away a whole pile of tote bags. When did he even collect that much? While he works on the next pile, he finds the bag he decorated with all the Pride pins. They're cold against his fingertips as he runs his fingers over them, marveling at how they still gleam. He takes in a breath.

"It was uh, supposed to be my second Pride March." Doyoung looks up at that, and Taeyong gives a thin smile. "I promised myself that I'd go this year, no matter what it took. It was going to be perfect."

He sucks on his teeth. "I kind of regret not going to the few Pride Marches that our uni had when we were in college, do you remember those? They were pretty small-scale, but god, I always wanted to go to them."

Dark, soft eyes study him for a long moment. Doyoung had seen those Pride Marches too, and he had been the one that Taeyong had confided in during that time.

"Why didn't you?" he asks gently.

Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek. He never really did explain to Doyoung, just told him that he wanted to go and yet never going. Doyoung had asked before if he wanted to go, even said that some of their friends would be going, and Taeyong always said he wasn't going.

He runs his fingers over the pins again, their shimmer catching in the light of his bedroom. One is of two boys kissing, their lines simple and a smile on their lips.

"I don't know. I guess I was just too scared?" He scratches at the fabric of the bag. "I think I couldn't get myself to go because I was so scared about what it would mean, about me admitting to myself that I could be allowed to go to it. It was me who wouldn't allow myself to do it, and I regret that."

He remembers calling his sister, crying, saying that he didn't know what to do. Taeyong had wanted to go so much that it nearly broke his heart, but he was too scared to even attempt it. His noona had told him that he should go, just try it, and that she'd be cheering him on. He had ended that call and looked at the flyer he had gotten.

Taeyong still didn't go.

Doyoung pauses in his search, looking like he wants to reach out to him. "I understand why you were scared. It wasn't that easy then, not here. Things are better now, but it was pretty terrifying back then."

"Still hate myself for not going. That could've been so fun! I can't believe I missed out on so much."

Lips twisting, Doyoung digs his knuckles into Taeyong's thigh. "Hey. Don't beat yourself up over it. That time, you weren't sure about doing that, and that's okay."

When he looks up, Doyoung's pouting slightly, his cheeks puffed out. "What matters is that you're here now, and you're enjoying things at your own pace. It's sad that we don't have a full on celebration this year, but we're still celebrating. We'll have fun, and we'll forget about our regrets, yeah? Let's live, that's something to really be proud of."

Taeyong feels himself smile. He knows Doyoung's right, and that even though this year, he won't be marching, he still carries his heart on.

In the next moment, Doyoung pulls out his flag from a bag he's sure he didn't put that into, wrapping him in it. "Come on, let's get you dressed now, alright?"

He lets himself be pulled up, not minding the mess on his floor. He'll get back to that later. With his hand in Doyoung's, he walks.

* * *

Doyoung, he learns, is a stress baker.

Truthfully, he didn't even know that Doyoung knew how to bake. All he knew was Doyoung's _ulam_ and the occasional pasta dish. That's it.

But here he is now, in Taeyong's kitchen, rooting around in his kitchen cupboards for the package of yeast. Taeyong knows there's one somewhere in there, but he's not quite sure where.

"You know how to make bread?" he asks, perched on the edge of the counter, legs dangling. He's seen a number of baking videos on the internet the past few days, and he's been honestly considering them until Doyoung beat him to it.

He gets a distracted hum as Doyoung finally finds the yeast and is now trying to look for a suitable bowl. "Do you have bread flour by any chance?"

"Doyoungie, I don't make bread."

"Right." Taeyong's large mixing bowl comes down. God, it's been a while since he's seen that. "Does bread flour make much of a difference?"

Alright, Taeyong takes it back. Doyoung doesn't really know how to bake.

He watches as Doyoung locates the bag of flour, halfway gone. "It has more gluten. Makes the dough stretchier and less dense."

Doyoung's face falls. "Ah. I really should've planned this in advance."

Snickering, Taeyong jumps off of the counter. He opens another cupboard to retrieve the measuring cups. "What did the recipe say?"

"All-purpose is fine."

"Then we'll use it."

Surprisingly, it's not all that complicated to make bread. Doyoung measures out all the ingredients carefully (all 6 of them anyways) while Taeyong mixes them together, following the recipe pulled up on Doyoung's phone. There are flour fingerprints everywhere and they spilled a bit of the yeast on the floor, but overall he thinks they did pretty well.

It's the kneading part that kinda gets to them. The dough sticks everywhere and they're both a little scared to add too much extra flour to it, so they take a bit to just sprinkle increments of it and see if it helps with the consistency.

They're side by side, so Taeyong bumps shoulders with him. "What suddenly got you to make bread?"

Doyoung sighs, scraping his hands with the spatula and adding a little bit more flour to his half of the dough. "I saw some focaccia on Instagram and I thought I might as well try, but I had to learn how to do bread first..."

It makes Taeyong chuckle. "Yeah, you do need to at least get the hang of making bread first."

For a while, they only knead at their dough halves, Ruby padding into the kitchen curiously. Taeyong coos at her, saying that she must be able to smell it somehow, something yeasty and good. It is starting to smell a bit like a bakery here, all warm yeast and sugar, and that is quite nice.

While Taeyong rounds out his dough and drops it into his oiled bowl, Doyoung speaks up. "Do you...want a cake for your birthday?"

Ah. Taeyong had kind of forgotten that he did have his birthday coming up in barely a week. Comes with how he's been thinking about way too much and nothing all at the same time.

He gives Doyoung a smile. "Why, are you gonna bake me a cake?"

His best friend shrugs, placing his dough ball into his own oiled bowl. "I mean, I don't think I'll be a pro baker by then, but I can at least try with the boxed stuff."

It makes Taeyong smile a little wider. They used to have a tradition of taking the birthday boy to try out any new restaurant in the area for each other's birthdays, and more often than not, they'd go to the nearby park to just stroll around with no particular reason or even a destination in mind. They'd talk about the food, and the year that had passed, and what they wish they could do at whatever age they were. A lot of times, there was a gift given, even just a small one. Doyoung liked the idea of celebrating even in the simplest of ways, because another year alive was another year to be proud of.

Obviously, they can't do that again this year, but Doyoung still wants to do a little something for him. He finds it endearing, and Taeyong moves to cover their bowls with damp cloths before Doyoung could see the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks.

"I'll try my best to enjoy it then."

"Hey, boxed cake mix isn't _that_ bad!"

While they let the dough rise, Doyoung opens his laptop and opens the doc he seems to be working on. He stares at it, types a handful of words, and opens another tab. Taeyong does his best not to watch him.

There's a quick burst of tapping on his keyboard, and then silence again. Another burst, and Doyoung seems to be clicking through some things.

"I uh, made bread because I was frustrated."

Taeyong looks up from his game. "Frustrated?"

Doyoung looks at the tab with his document on it, the white reflecting on his glasses. He heaves a sigh. "Writing is hard."

Studying him for a moment, Taeyong doesn't say anything. Doyoung's job wasn't writing, exactly, but these days it almost seemed like it was. He had been working on this little project of his, something that was apparently self-indulgent and complex and absolutely forbidden from being ever seen by Taeyong. If he wasn't watching dramas, he was going to stare at this very document.

For the first few weeks, Taeyong had wondered why Doyoung absolutely refused to let him read it, even just a bit. All Taeyong has actually gotten are a handful of words and phrases that he couldn't really connect.

But now, at almost July, Taeyong has accepted that he won't ever know.

What he does know, though, is that it matters a lot to Doyoung. He's seen Doyoung start up projects like these and not really come back to them, especially if his actual job took up most of his time. Now, even with how they're all adjusting and Doyoung has more work on his plate than usual, he doesn't seem to want to give up on this particular project.

Since Taeyong doesn't give him a reply, Doyoung continues. "I wrote, like, 5000 words in a few hours the other day, and I haven't touched the document since. I'm just." He makes a strangled, tight sound, before letting his shoulders slump. "I thought I had my drive going."

"That's honestly pretty good." Taeyong reaches out a hand to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I mean, I don't think you'll be at 100% full throttle all the time. There will really just be days that you can't, and that's not a bad thing."

Doyoung gives him a pointed look. "Bold of you to say that. You were whining the other day about everything going wrong in your first sketches for that commission."

Chuckling, Taeyong agrees. It's true, he really had been about to pull his hair out because of how everything was just refusing to work with him that day, from his tablet to his sketches to his playlist. It was simply not his day.

"You got me there." He turns so that he doesn't see the very well protected secret that Doyoung has on his laptop screen. "I should learn to take my own advice."

He can almost imagine it, the slight quirk of Doyoung's lip into a smile before he says that Taeyong really should. But all he gets is the sound of tapping on the keyboard, which pauses not too long after.

"I'm just gonna go Google if bread is a good coping mechanism for how much I feel like a failure." he hears Doyoung say, completely deadpan. Taeyong whirls around to pinch at his side.

"You're not a failure for not writing for a few days, or for any matter of time really. You've never been a failure."

Doyoung sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. Taeyong pokes at one of his cheeks.

"I'm gonna say it again: You're not a failure and you're doing pretty well. Also yes, bread is a good coping mechanism, I guess."

That gets a smile spreading out across Doyoung's features. "Then let me bake more bread?"

Laughing, Taeyong nods. "Fine, fine. Just promise me that you'll let me help?"

The edges of Doyoung's smile softens. He knocks the back of his hand against Taeyong's arm. "You're the only guarantee that I won't burn down this apartment, honestly."

With a shake of his head, Taeyong stands up and offers his hand. "Come on then, let's check on our dough baby. No more thinking about writing for now."

* * *

It is a box cake mix, a chocolate one that Doyoung has decided to chuck a pack of chocolate chips into so that it was somehow better than it was going to be if they had stuck to the recipe. There's some fresh cream and a really nice jar of preserved raspberries already open on the counter. Taeyong has gotten little dabs of cream all over Doyoung's face like he's the one with the birthday, and Doyoung promises he'll get back to him in just a bit.

There were no more birthday candles at the store closest to them, and there's only this lone "1" candle found in the recesses of Taeyong's art supplies drawer. Lighting it is a little hard because the wick is really not cooperating, but they finally get it and they stick it into the cake.

Doyoung holds the cake in his hands, steady as ever. He stretches out his arms for Taeyong to get close to the cake, his face glowing with the candlelight.

"I don't know if you still make wishes, Yongie, but you can do that now."

Taeyong steals a little glance, just a short moment at his best friend. It's enough for him to see that beam of his grow, his edges soft and blurry almost, his stupid little party hat lopsided on his head. Taeyong clasps his hands, closes his eyes, and blows the candle out.

Later, when they're eating the surprisingly good cake, Doyoung asks "What'd you wish for?" as if he doesn't get the same answer from Taeyong every single time.

Stabbing a cut up bit of raspberry with his fork, Taeyong tells him "I'm not saying it." With a shrug, Doyoung goes back to eating his own slice of cake.

Taeyong looks at him for a little longer, and wishes he could tell him.

* * *

Ruby's been a little out of it the past few weeks, barely eating and only lying down for most of the day. It's worrying, and any Google searches Taeyong has done has not made it any better. He's been trying to see if she'd get excited about her favorite food, or one of her favorite toys, but there's still barely any response.

Now, he holds her head in his lap, carding through her soft fur gently while Doyoung calls all the nearby vet clinics in the area. He murmurs to his dog, soothing things that he used to say to her when she was smaller and could fit easily into his arms. She can barely keep her eyes open, and Taeyong does his best to blink back his tears.

"No, she's never been like this before, we don't know what it is–" he hears Doyoung say into the phone, pacing around in the kitchen. "Is an appointment possible by tomorrow? We'd take it even if it's within the week please..."

As gently as he can, Taeyong bundles her up into his arms. She goes easily, almost boneless in his hold when she usually jumped up to lick at him. Scritching at the back of her ears, she settles into his lap, eyes closing. Taeyong wishes that he could understand, wishes he knew where it hurt so that he could help.

But all he can do for now is hold her, soothe her, even when he feels like he'll break.

"We'll get you help, okay? I promise, we'll get you better," he murmurs, not sure if she even hears right now.

He leans down to press his forehead to the top of Ruby's head. There are tears, he knows there are, and it stings all the way out.

The only vet clinic that's open is a pretty large one about 15 minutes away. He's in the backseat, of Doyoung's car, Ruby swaddled in her best blanket and asleep again in his arms. Doyoung is a little frantic, driving a bit quicker than he usually does to get to the clinic. He keeps chanting "she'll be okay she'll be okay she'll be okay" like it'll magically heal her. It makes Taeyong get a bit on edge too, but he tries to stay calm for her sake.

At the clinic, it's Doyoung that talks to the receptionist. Taeyong takes Ruby to the little section where there's a play area, telling her that once she gets better, he'd let her stay there for as long as she wanted. Ruby seems to perk up a little at that, and that's a comforting enough sign to him.

They're called into a room, Ruby set down on the examining table. The vet asks them what's been going on with her, and it's Doyoung who explains. Taeyong provides more of the details that he can remember, like when it started, what she was able to eat and what she just refused, her water intake.

But mostly, he stays by her side, running a hand through her fur. She gets scared at the vet clinic, and even now, he can feel how tense she is. He's trying not to shake as he does so, very nervous about this whole thing himself.

During the check-up, they stay. Taeyong feels like someone is sitting on his chest, making it so much harder for him to breathe. A hand wanders into his at some point, and it takes a while before he registers that it's Doyoung. There's a little squeeze, and Taeyong feels like crying.

Ruby looks up at him with droopy eyes, and Taeyong wants to take all of this pain away.

Thankfully, they're given medication for her to take and what food it's recommended that she eat, and they're sent home. The vet, Dr. Park, tells them to monitor Ruby over the next few days as she takes her medication, and to call if there seem to be any more issues.

At the counter, Doyoung settles the bill and gets the medications. Taeyong sits at one of the benches, cuddling Ruby to himself. She'll be fine, he believes this.

It's not too long before Doyoung is beside him, carefully patting Ruby's head. Only now does Taeyong sees the dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn't been able to sleep while all of this was going on.

"You alright?" Taeyong asks, just out of habit.

Doyoung pauses, and shakes his head. "I'm just worried."

"I am too," Taeyong whispers. He watches as Doyoung's hand stops at a particular spot, and he wonders if he's trying to feel for her heartbeat. "She'll be fine, Doyoung."

At this, Doyoung nods, straightens himself up, like he's composing himself. Taeyong thinks that it's good that he doesn't seem to want to lose hope. It helps Taeyong not lose hope, either.

Gently, like he's afraid to hurt her, Doyoung places a kiss on the top of her sleeping head, murmuring something. Taeyong doesn't have to hear to know what he's saying.

* * *

Over the next few days, Taeyong can't bring himself to draw.

It would've been okay, but he doesn't like this feeling settling under his ribs. It's irritating and he keeps trying to scratch it out, to no avail. He tries to distract himself with other things, like dancing and binge-watching and even sleeping, but the feeling is still there.

Any attempt to start a drawing either gets scrapped or abandoned, and it all feels so aimless. He usually hates to force himself like this, but he can't _not_ do something, anything.

So he paces his room, rearranges his shelves, looks up how to get out of an art block, and unearths his collection of old mangas. Taeyong can't even read the mangas because he keeps remembering that he really shouldn't do it and he's wasting time so really, he gets all anxious again.

He thinks he's at least handling the frustrations well until Doyoung has to come in his room and tap his forehead with a gel pen.

"Hey." It's that voice that he uses when he knows that Taeyong is pushing himself again. "Let's watch a movie?"

There's a little protest on his lips before Doyoung successfully drags him out of bed. He's unceremoniously dropped onto the couch, Doyoung popping into his own room to get blankets and pillows.

Somehow, Taeyong is wrestled into a blanket burrito of sorts, only his face peeking out. Doyoung settles on the sofa beside him, draping his heavy knit blanket around himself.

"Why are we watching a movie?" Taeyong asks, wiggling in his cocoon. Doyoung hits the play spacebar on his laptop, and it comes to life on the TV.

"Because you're clearly in an art block and about 2 seconds away from spontaneous combustion. Trust me, we should watch this movie."

Scowling, Taeyong sinks into the soft warmth of the blankets. He waits as the movie goes through the beginning credits, and with every passing screen, he thinks he can guess what movie this is.

"Oh my god, Doyoung."

All he gets as a response is a bark of laughter. He shushes Taeyong, waving to the screen to signal that he should just watch.

Sure enough, he hears a very familiar song start playing.

 _Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me_ _  
__I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed_

With all the effort he can muster, he kicks at Doyoung. He gets another bout of laughter, even louder now, as his best friend tries to push him away.

"Shrek?" he asks, his voice rising in pitch. It only makes Doyoung laugh even more, his pushing almost making Taeyong topple. "We're gonna watch Shrek?"

"Why? You love it! You said you had so many good memories with this movie."

Taeyong gets another semi-kick in. It almost sends Doyoung falling off of the couch, and that's enough for Taeyong.

Right before they get to the part where they go to Fiona's tower, Doyoung pauses the movie. At Taeyong's whine, Doyoung puts a finger up to tell him to wait. He comes back with a giant bag of green apple gummies, one of Taeyong's favorite candies. Doyoung plops down on the couch and opens the bag.

Popping one into Taeyong's open mouth, Doyoung says, "Don't feel too bad about your art, alright? You said it yourself, you can't be full throttle all the time."

Chewing on the gummy, Taeyong looks down. He did say that, not even that long ago. And Doyoung, of course, remembers it.

He opens his mouth for another gummy, and Doyoung gives him two. "I hate not doing anything, which I know is so hypocritical of me because I just told you that it's fine not to write for a few days. I just..."

"You need to distract yourself," Doyoung finishes for him, eating a gummy himself. "A lot's been going on with this quarantine, like the fact that we can't go outside and live life the way we used to, and then the pending workload that will most likely welcome us, and then Ruby…” His eyes trail to the little cot in the corner. "It's way too much for anyone to be able to handle."

There's a hand on his blanket cocoon, warm even through all the layers. Taeyong feels a little squeeze.

"And art, god. I think we got too caught up in the fact that there's a lot of time on our hands, and we keep thinking that we should do something with that time, that we have to stay productive somehow. With both of us out of work in the meantime, we just have all this extra time and we don't know what to do with it and it's messing us up, y'know?"

Somehow, Taeyong manages to free an arm from the blankets and reaches out for the bag of gummies. He takes a handful, popping one into his mouth. "So basically, we got used to having work piled on us and now we feel aimless?"

"Yeah, exactly." He picks at a loose thread. "I think we have to relearn how to live without doing something related to our jobs, or anything actually productive. This pandemic is not going to leave if we force ourselves to keep doing something for every single day, every single second that we're stuck here."

Looking straight at Doyoung, Taeyong lets out a sigh. "It's kinda hard to unlearn, you know?"

With a nod, Doyoung settles further into the sofa, his head on the backrest. "Don't push yourself, alright? You'll get burnout this way, and that's so much worse to live with during the quarantine."

He's right. Taeyong had gone through bad burnouts before and they weren't very fun, and he thinks that if he ever went through that while in quarantine, he might lose whatever is left of his sanity.

"It's okay to just lie in bed, alright? We shouldn't think that keeping busy is the only way. We should try to do what we can, when we can, and not because we get pressured by all the art we see that's posted online or seeing just how much other people have made their lives better somehow during this time."

And he admits to himself that he does push himself, every single day. It's just a cycle of him wanting to put something out, to feel like everything is not this echo chamber. He scrolls through any social media he has and people are busy, creating content so constantly that he does feel like he's too slow, when he's really not.

If he counts every piece he's done since quarantine started, it's already way more than he would usually do in the same span of time. He's painted, drawn, sketched, even sculpted a little. That's honestly more than he would even attempt during any regular year.

He knows that he should forgive himself for not being 100% all the time.

Doyoung opens the bag a little more to make it easier to get the gummies. "Let's move and create at our own pace, yeah?"

Taeyong nods, agreeing with him. He's given a little smile, and Doyoung starts up the movie again. As they settle back in, Taeyong tells himself that this is okay, they'll be okay just watching Shrek for the afternoon and not do anything else for today.

* * *

"Can we just not do this?"

Taeyong shoots him a look from the floor. "You agreed!"

With a grumble, Doyoung plops down to the floor, lines up his feet with Taeyong's. "Do we really have to stretch like this?"

"Yes, unless you want to wake up tomorrow with a sore body."

Scowling, Doyoung straightens himself up. "Alright, show me how to do it."

They stretch together for a while, Taeyong showing him how to do it and correcting him if needed. Doyoung goes without much of a protest after the first few sets, which makes it all the easier for Taeyong.

They also do some warm-ups, nothing too fancy. Just enough to get them going. Doyoung already seems to be regretting going for track pants for today, and Taeyong, in his boxers, is doing absolutely fine.

When the _Just Dance_ opening screen shows on the TV, Doyoung visibly winces. It makes Taeyong giggle. He's never had anyone have such a visceral reaction to _Just Dance_.

"God, remember when you first got this?"

Oh, Taeyong remembers.

It was Johnny's birthday and his announcement of getting engaged, celebrated at one of those barbecue restaurants in a fancy mall. Taeyong and Doyoung had to ride with Jaehyun because they frankly had no idea where the mall was, and it turns out that it was by a casino-slash-hotel. Truthfully, Taeyong didn't think he'd feel underdressed for going to a damn mall, but well, that's exactly what happened.

The restaurant had been massive and glittery, looking more like it fit into a hotel, really. Jaehyun had been the one to get them walking into the restaurant because he apparently had the e-invite that they needed. Approaching the table, Johnny had waved them over, the brightest beam on his face.

The rest of the night had been a blur of food, laughter, and many, many glasses of good wine. Ten had even started drinking the ones that Taeyong couldn't quite finish, and Taeyong remembers how they both started giggling at all the weirdest things. Everyone was having such a great time, and they were all plenty tipsy.

Later, when they had finished and decided to go on a walk to get sober, and they explored the mall. It was definitely posher than a lot of them were used to, and they marveled at all the luxury brands and the stores that they've never seen anywhere else. Doyoung had somehow acquired an overpriced jar of fancy _tuyo,_ and Johnny had pretty much used up all his polaroid film on taking photos of his fiancé.

It was Ten who had chanced upon the game. There was a whole setup in the middle of the mall to try out the game, and there were people dancing. Curious, Ten had taken Taeyong by the hand and dragged him along to see what all the fuss was about.

Now, Taeyong might have been more than just tipsy then, but he clearly remembers the way Ten's eyes lit up when he realized what it was.

They had kind of wrestled to be the next ones up to try it. God, Taeyong knew that Jaehyun and most likely Yuta had their phones out recording them, but he barely cared as Ten selected _Bang Bang,_ excitedly getting into position. They were giggly and they were watched by at least a dozen people and they danced their ass off.

In the morning, Taeyong woke up with a new Xbox and the game, and about seven different Snapchats.

"I bet you still have the video from that day," Taeyong says, scrolling through the options for songs.

"Of course I do. Will I be your best friend if I didn't have it?"

Rolling his eyes, Taeyong settles on _Worth It._ Doyoung is whining at him to change it, but Taeyong keeps the remote far, far away from him.

It's on easy mode, but Doyoung still sweats through it. He almost tackles Taeyong when he giggles at his attempts, but they end up just landing on the couch.

They try it again, because Doyoung is too competitive for his own good and isn't going to settle with an okay score. It's Taeyong that flounders with it this time, too busy watching Doyoung body the song.

Doyoung chooses the next song. When Taeyong sees what it is, he almost falls to his knees laughing.

_"California Gurls?"_

"Why, Yongie, don't think you're fine, fresh, fierce enough?"

Taeyong almost throws a pillow at him.

He learns that the _Just Dance_ choreo is pretty damn difficult, but he powers through it. Doyoung does a pretty damn good job at wiggling his ass almost all throughout the routine, and he gets a congratulatory pat from Taeyong at that.

"You used to dance to this whenever we were at bars, do you remember?" Doyoung asks, hands on his knees as he's trying to catch his breath.

"At bars, in the mall, at Christmas parties. Everywhere really." Taeyong is a little winded too, a little shaky as he goes through the list of songs.

They spend a whole afternoon dancing to hits from the early 2010s, until Doyoung is just slumped down on the floor. Taeyong nudges him with a foot, and Doyoung only groans.

However, Doyoung still doesn't miss out on the last song, a classic: _Starships._ Taeyong sees the exact moment that Doyoung's eyes light up. God, if he could only find all those videos of Doyoung belting this out during their college days.

With this song, Doyoung gives it his all, even as he's stumbling a little on difficult mode. Taeyong's apartment is filled with their laughter and the sound of their feet on the floor. It's good that Taeyong's on the ground floor because he's sure any tenants below them would have come up already.

But oh, do they have fun. They're both out of breath and Taeyong thinks they might both crash into bed right after this, but it's worth it. Doyoung is sweating through his thin shirt and he's still doing his best for fucking _Starships_ and Taeyong is happy that he has him to spend this quarantine with.

* * *

**[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**hey what's ur address

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**my address??? what for

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**i'm sending smth  
come on what's the address baby

Taeyong texts him the address, still confused about what Ten could possibly send him. Normally, Ten would get boxes of new clothes and his favorite food from his sister, who lives in a different country. Most of those were requested, but a good number of them are really just gifts to her brother. Ten would always share the food with Taeyong, stuff like imported chocolate and snacks.

But now, with the pandemic and how she can't send over the boxes, Taeyong wonders what Ten would even give to him.

He forgets about it as he goes through his work emails. They're mostly zoom meeting links, as they were going to discuss the plans for the next semester and how to further improve the classes for this semester.

A few hours later, he is reminded of it when Doyoung opens the front door and calls out "Did you order something?"

What Ten sent over, apparently, is a box full of ube cheese pandesal. There's a little sticky note on the box, with Ten's writing telling them to enjoy.

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**hey  
why

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**what?  
you don't want food?

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**no ten  
i'm just wondering why so out of the blue

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**bc they're really nice and knowing u you might have saved a hundred posts about ube cheese pandesal but never bought yourself some  
come on, taeyong, i know these things

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**HEY

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**enjoy them  
share with ur bf!

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**he's not my bf

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**ok i'm not going to have that conversation with u rn  
eat well baby luv ya

"What did Ten say?" Doyoung asks, trying to not make it obvious that he wants to peer at Taeyong's phone. "I've seen these everywhere for a couple months now. Always wanted to try them."

Taeyong pockets his phone, busying himself with opening the box. "He says we should enjoy these, it's his treat."

For a bit, Doyoung looks like he doubts that's all Ten said, but he just shrugs and waits for Taeyong. When the box is finally opened, he gets one of the very purple pandesal and munches down.

* * *

The bottles clink together when Taeyong takes them out of the fridge. He sets them down on the coffee table, right next to where Doyoung has put down his laptop. Taeyong goes back to the kitchen to look for the bottle opener while Doyoung continues to set up.

"Who's gonna be there again?"

"Johnny, Taeil, Jaehyun? I think they got Jungwoo to come too. I texted Ten earlier." Taeyong grabs the bottle opener from the drawer and the bag of chicharon from the counter. "Didn't you invite Yuta?"

Getting up from the couch, Doyoung pads over to the kitchen, gets the box of wings they had delivered for this very occasion. "Yeah, but he and Sicheng had to do some overtime at the clinic. They're gonna try to catch up."

It was going to be their first e-drinking session with their friends. They were supposed to have a get-together around this time to celebrate their decade of being a friendgroup, but they can't due to the circumstances. So, they're making do with a virtual celebration, which can't possibly compare to the real thing, but they're really all in it to see each other.

They're a little early when they enter the Zoom meeting, with only them and Johnny there for now. Johnny has his son in his lap, and they both look entranced by something on their screen.

"Oh wow, Junseo's so big now!" Doyoung says brightly as he opens the beer bottles.

It makes Johnny snap his attention to the camera. _"Hi guys! Yeah, he's huge, can't even carry him anymore. I hope you don't mind him joining us today."_

"We don't mind!" Taeyong tears the chicharon bag open. "Will Taeil let him drink a little?"

Johnny waves a sippy cup with what looks like orange juice in it. _"Oh trust me, he's drinking with us."_

While they try to talk to a babbling Junseo, Taeil comes into frame, bearing cans of beer. He says hi to them right before popping a french fry into their son's mouth.

"Hyung, how are you? I feel like we haven't seen each other in a year." Taeyong accepts the pillows that Doyoung is trying to stuff behind him.

 _"Almost two years,"_ Taeil corrects, cracking open the beer. _"It's either we have work stuff or one or both of us have to go home. I feel like some supernatural force is preventing us from meeting again."_

Taeyong takes a small sip from his drink. "Don't say that! You might jinx it, hyung."

Chuckling, Taeil transfers the toddler into his lap. _"Well, when are we even getting out of this quarantine?"_

He has a point. They were already well into their 6th month in quarantine, with abysmal response from the government. It was just disappointment after disappointment, and they had constantly rising cases with little to no action taken. Even though somehow, the city feels a bit more alive these days instead of a total ghost town, it doesn't seem like it will ever be the same. Certainly not with how things are going, certainly not with how it's being handled right now.

They all collectively sigh. Doyoung raises his bottle, and Johnny raises Junseo's sippy cup. "Another reason to drink today, I guess," Doyoung says, mouth twisting into a grimace.

 _"Among a lot of other reasons."_ Johnny tips back the sippy cup so his son can drink while Taeil tries to direct the straw into Johnny's mouth.

Soon enough, they're joined by Jaehyun and Jungwoo, their video feed coming on at almost the same time. Jungwoo is already draining his glass of whatever he put in there, and Jaehyun working the cork off of his bottle of wine. It's not long before Ten is in the call too, his cat making Junseo lean forward and reach for the screen.

And, well, like most of their drinking sessions, it goes into all sorts of tangents. They talk about doing work online and how much they all hate doing video calls and how they've all baked bread at one point or another during the quarantine. Jaehyun has now collected an odd assortment of plants for some reason, and Jungwoo has collected online bookmarks of piercings. Both Johnny and Taeil have been trying to get Junseo to eat more vegetables but also the toddler has now discovered that he CAN have brownies semi-regularly. Peppered with Ten trying to keep his cats away from his food and Doyoung nearly choking on an errant bite of chicken, it truly feels like they're all hanging out together again.

Of course, like almost all of their drinking sessions, Taeyong drinks a bit too much. There's generally less of a chance that he embarrass himself because he's at home anyways, but that doesn't mean he doesn't make even the tiniest bit of a mess still. Doyoung only got beer for them today but it is settling nice and warm in Taeyong's stomach and he is starting to feel kind of fuzzy.

Good to know though that he's not the only one. Jungwoo is starting to wiggle to music that none of them can hear, while Jaehyun is reddening quickly. He knows for sure that Ten misses the time when they could go out dancing and he's making his cats dance instead.

If he closes his eyes, he can imagine all of them in one of those restobars that they used to go to, all good food and cold airconditioning and the karaoke machine in the corner. He can imagine Doyoung and Jungwoo elbowing each other to have a turn with the mic, and Ten winning in the end. It's such a nice memory that Taeyong stays in it for a while, barely even hearing what goes on in the video call.

At some point, maybe around the time that Yuta and Sicheng come into their call, Doyoung plucks the drink from Taeyong's hands and downs it himself. When he whines, Doyoung just tells him he's had enough for the night and it won't be good to have any more.

Slumping into his seat, Taeyong just crosses his arms. On Doyoung's laptop screen, he can make out Johnny starting to get really giggly which means that he's gonna get all kissy soon. He can also see Yuta and his platinum blonde hair, smile gummy while he listens to the story Jungwoo's telling.

Taeyong isn't sure how exactly it happens, but they all start dancing. Someone's shared their screen with everyone and it's a whole playlist of 2000s Billboard top hits or something and they're up and moving. He's sure that Doyoung is staring and laughing at him right now, but he doesn't care.

He also knows that he gets Doyoung up and on his feet somehow, dancing to Britney Spears together. Taeyong is bubbling over with giggles and he must've crashed into Doyoung at least a few times in the process.

One way or another, he finds himself by Ruby's bed, kissing her head and telling her she's pretty and bursting into tears. Ruby is looking at him with a curious expression, and Taeyong knows he deserves that.

Taeyong knows that Doyoung gets him off of the floor, practically carrying him to his room. Giggles still come out of him even when he tries not to let them, and he's clinging a little too tightly to Doyoung. His sheets are nice and cool when he's laid down, and everything feels absolutely dreamy.

"Doyoung-ah, don't goooo," he croons, keeping his arms wound around him.

Doyoung chuckles, right in his ear, as he extracts himself. "Goodnight, Taeyong. I need to go."

"No, you don't." He scoots over, pats the space next to him. "Plenty of space here."

"Goodnight, Taeyong." Somehow, he can feel the gentle smile on Doyoung's face. "I'll see you in the morning."

Taeyong tries to prop himself up, but he crashes back into bed with a slight wince. Weakly, he raises a hand.

"Kiss Ruby goodnight for me?" he says.

His best friend is a blurry mass by his door, but he's sure he sees him nod his head. "Sure, Yongie. I will."

A smile spreads across Taeyong's face. He says a thank you, pressing his face into his pillow.

The door clicks closed soon after.

* * *

He's woken up by someone shaking him. Taeyong groans, flips over. It's way too early, and he drank way too much to be woken up like this.

But whoever is trying to wake him is persistent, so he begrudgingly opens his eyes. After blinking away some of the blurriness, he sees Doyoung hovering over him, saying something he can't quite process. Taeyong grumbles, batting weakly at him.

"Five more minutes, please," he says, throwing an arm around his eyes. Everything's too bright, and his hangover is making itself very much known to him right now.

"Taeyong." Doyoung's voice is different, graver. "Taeyong please."

With another groan, Taeyong lets his arm drop to his side and he's opening his eyes again. "What is it?"

It's the way that Doyoung stays silent for a few beats, hesitant to say it, that makes Taeyong bolt upright even when it makes his head spin. Doyoung's eyes are red-rimmed, like he'd been crying, and it's enough to make Taeyong nearly jump straight out of bed.

"No..."

"Taeyong, I tried – I called the vet and I tried to do what I could but –"

The doorknob cracks against something from how fast Taeyong charges out of the door.

"Where is –" He nearly trips on his own slippers, can't even be assed to put them on right now. He's shaking, and he can already feel himself about to break down. "Doyoung! Tell me where she –"

Doyoung is suddenly by his side, hand firm on his wrist. He half hauls Taeyong to the corner where Ruby's bed is, and Taeyong can barely think anymore.

There, carefully swaddled in her favorite yellow blanket, is Ruby. She just looks like she's asleep, just how Taeyong left her the night before.

Except Doyoung is now sobbing, just saying "I'm sorry, Taeyongie, I'm so sorry..."

Taeyong feels himself drop to his knees.

He reaches a hand out, and it's trembling so much. Somehow, he manages to place it on top of her, still expecting the gentle rise and fall of her back.

There is nothing.

Jaw wobbling, Taeyong leans forward to lean his forehead against her. He feels like all the air has been robbed straight out of his lungs, and he just doesn't even have the strength to let tears come out.

"Baby," he whispers, and it sounds so broken. "Baby, please. Please breathe for me. Please."

She doesn't, and Taeyong wants to hate the breath that he intakes shakily. He'd give it to her in a heartbeat.

Doyoung lingers behind him, probably scared to touch him right now. Taeyong knows he's shattering into pieces right now, and he really doesn't blame Doyoung for not wanting to get too close.

Gently, he pets her head, feels her soft fur. The tears still don't come, but they feel like they've decided to become sharp thorns wrapping around his chest.

"I'm so sorry," he gets out, and his voice doesn't feel like it's his. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

When he buries his face into her faded blanket, Taeyong wishes he didn't leave her for the night.

* * *

The thing about grief is that it doesn't always come in the exact same form. Sometimes it's loud and it's so present that nobody would doubt it. Sometimes it's crying until everything stops hurting a little less, no matter how long that takes. Sometimes it's running away from it, running in every direction possible just to escape it. Sometimes it's silence, not able to find the words or the will to actually break down.

Most of the time, Taeyong cries. He lets it out, spends a while to just feel everything and takes his time to get every bit of his sadness out. Often, it feels like his heart is breaking into two as he sobs, like his ribs will just collapse into his chest. The tears are suffocating, but it feels good to have cried out everything he can.

Sometimes, he runs from it. Taeyong's not proud of that, really. He'll escape it as much as he can through working, making art, busying himself. It works for a while, and he thinks that he's moved on. But really, he can only run for so long until he ends up in a crumpled heap, everything he kept back bearing down on him.

Now, though, it's absolutely quiet in Doyoung's car on the way back home from the veterinary hospital. He tries to get himself to sleep, because there's still a pounding at the base of his skull and he's not even sure he can sleep over the next few days. But every time he closes his eyes they sting too much, so he's resorted to just staring out the window.

Doyoung, thankfully, doesn't try to fill in the silence. No music, no words, barely even any of those little sounds he makes when he's driving. While Taeyong appreciates it, he kind of wishes that he would at least talk, just so that Taeyong feels sort of grounded. But then again, neither of them feel that way right now.

When they reach home, Taeyong just wants to leave again. There's way too much here that reminds him of Ruby, and he can't handle it right now. A toy here and there, her still-full food bowls, her medicine on the counter, her leash, her bed in the living room. He knows that if he goes to the bathroom he'll see her shampoo and her towel, and hamper she had been chewing on at some point. If he goes to his room, he'll see the pile of blankets he had laid out for her and never really put away.

He makes a beeline for the fridge, pulling out the water pitcher to pour himself a glass. It's almost like he hasn't had water in a while, and the cold almost burns on the way down.

"Taeyong..." Doyoung begins.

And really, he just wants to help, wants to make this easier for him, wants to _be there_ for him. He just wants to let Taeyong feel like he's not alone in this, that he has someone with him right now.

"Not now, Doyoung," is what Taeyong says, putting his glass in the sink. "I'm sorry."

Doyoung doesn't say anything more. Even though Taeyong has his back turned to him, he knows that his best friend must have nodded, accepted that this was what was going to happen.

Letting go of the edge of the sink, Taeyong goes straight to his room. He wills himself not to see any of the things that remind him of Ruby, and he closes his door firmly behind him. The bed easily dips under his weight, soft and forgiving after his particularly horrid day. Taeyong proceeds to stuff his face into his pillow.

There is no sound outside his door after that.

* * *

Old habits die hard, they say. Taeyong's old habits have to be physically dragged away kicking and screaming.

He goes back to creating at a pace that can't possibly be healthy. Taeyong churns out art like he's running on way too many energy drinks, drawing and painting and writing several pieces a day. It's so easy to burn through all of the sketchbooks and notebooks he's collected over the years but never really wanted to use. It's so easy to keep himself occupied.

A little concerning, maybe, because he is functioning on about 2 hours of sleep a day total and whatever caffeine he can find in their cupboards. A lot concerning, perhaps, since he has barely gotten out of his room and all he's been thinking about is what to do next.

Doyoung has to coerce him out, get him to put some form of sustenance into his body. Worry is clearly in his best friend's features, but it's almost like he's trying not to be, for Taeyong's sake. Taeyong doesn't know how to feel about that.

He does, however, know how to feel about Doyoung constantly trying to cheer him up by way of food. Always cooks his favorites, buys him sweets, talks to him over dinner. It's a great effort, Taeyong knows, and he appreciates it.

That's the only time he really sees him these days, and the arrangement seems to be alright for the both of them. He and Doyoung are throwing themselves back into their work, and they're going back to the way that their days are. It's good, of course. They both had stuff to do, and the fact that they're busy means that at least they can most probably pay for rent and groceries this month.

Taeyong opens commissions, and he gets quite a number of inquiries. He accepts a good amount of them too, he knows he can finish. After all, he's on a roll, he can definitely finish more in a shorter amount of time compared to how it was before. He can do this.

And the pay for these are pretty substantial, and he even gets some ko-fis. It's good, it's all good. He can spend a bit of that too, maybe get himself some more paints. This is good.

Meanwhile, Doyoung is closing a lot of deals, judging by how busy he's been and all the calls he's been having. Taeyong doesn't hear all of them, but he's sure that it's going great. Everything's pretty alright.

One day, Taeyong feels like something is off, but he can't quite place it. Like something shifted, just a little bit to the left. Something amiss, whatever it is.

While Doyoung washes the dishes and Taeyong takes a look at his apartment for the first time in a while, he notices.

"Where's - where's her bed?"

He noticed it wasn't where he had placed it, just by the living room window so she could get some sun. Taeyong is absolutely sure that he left it there and hadn't moved it at all.

Doyoung looks up from what he's doing, meeting his gaze. "Oh. Uh, I put it into your storage closet, with everything of hers. I...I thought it would make it easier if you didn't see everything so much."

The only response Taeyong has is to nod. He goes back to staring at that spot by the window, now empty.

If he looks around a little more, he knows that he'll see that it's cleaner. No more toys, no more socks strewn everywhere, no more stray pieces of dog food that escaped the bowl somehow. The apartment is clean, tidier than it has been for a long time.

He takes a few more commission slots after lunch.

It's good, everything's good.

* * *

When Taeyong's door opens, he barely even flinches anymore.

"Yongie." The voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "You need to sleep."

Pausing the game, Taeyong rubs at his eyes. He kind of forgot the last time he had some proper shut-eye, not that he had ever kept track.

He doesn't turn around to look at Doyoung, who he can guess is just lingering by the door. "What time is it?" Taeyong asks, looking for his phone only to see that it's dead.

"Very late, or very early, depends on how you look at it." Doyoung pads up to him, but doesn't get too close. "Either way, you need to sleep."

Taeyong takes in a breath. He looks at his desktop screen, still brightly glowing from the game. "One more game, please?" he murmurs, more to the screen really, but he knows that Doyoung can hear.

A sigh. "No, Yongie." There are hands under his arms, warm and firm. "No more rounds for tonight."

He lets himself be half-lifted off of his chair, boneless in Doyoung's hold. Now, Doyoung isn't even all that strong, but Taeyong apparently isn't all that difficult to haul out either. Taeyong does his best not to be a dead weight, allowing himself to be maneuvered to the bed.

The sheets are cool when Taeyong's cheek lands on them, and he feels an almost phantom pull from them. His bed is mostly made, barely slept in, and he wonders when was the last time he actually stayed there for longer than to just toss and turn before getting up and busying himself.

Maybe too long, he thinks, as Doyoung adjusts the pillows and generally makes it more comfortable. He must know that this really isn't the way to get Taeyong to sleep, but he's trying, and that's saying so much more than what Taeyong has done.

"You don't...have to pity me," he says weakly, turning over so that he can at least watch Doyoung. Something flashes across Doyoung's features, but it's gone before Taeyong can even get it in himself to figure out what it was.

"This is not pitying you." His voice is level, his eyes are downcast. "This is caring about you."

After some hesitation, Taeyong reaches out his arm, and Doyoung stares at it. He brushes his knuckles against Doyoung, just enough. "Why do you care about me?"

It takes a few beats, but a hand encloses his own. "Why do I need to have a reason to care about you?"

He doesn't really have an answer to that. Admittedly, he just expected Doyoung to say something like "Because I do" or "Because I'm your best friend", but no. Doyoung is saying that there doesn't need to be a reason for him to care.

That's the first that Taeyong's heard that.

For a few moments, Doyoung moves away. Taeyong resists the urge to reach out for him again. Something in him wants to pull him close, ask him not to leave just yet, even though Doyoung isn't really going anywhere. He's staying here, in Taeyong's apartment until god-knows-when, and he'll never be too far.

His computer is put to sleep, and the room darkens further. He watches as Doyoung moves back to his side, all of his edges softer in the dim glow of his bedside lamp.

"Can I stay here?"

Taeyong blinks up at him blearily. He resists sitting up, pushes down the words that he fumbles with. All he does is nod yes, scooting over so that there's enough space.

The bed dips as Doyoung climbs in. Taeyong doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he balls them up and keeps them close. Doyoung seems to take note of that, and the moonlit concern on his face is enough to make Taeyong relax.

"Sorry, is this really alright?" Doyoung asks, sitting up. There it is again. Taeyong wants to pull him in, say it's absolutely fine, but his heart is beating a little too fast and he's starting to get lightheaded.

"Yes," he gets out. "Yes, it's alright. I just..."

"Do you... still need time?"

When he looks straight into his best friend's eyes, he sees that same wary concern. Doyoung's tried not to let it show all the time, but it's there. It's always been there.

Taeyong shakes his head. "Sorry. Just... stay. Don't ask anymore questions for now, please?"

This Doyoung understands. He settles into bed, folding himself as small as he can manage. It makes Taeyong move even more towards the edge, just so that Doyoung can have ample room. There's understanding of what he's doing in Doyoung's gaze, but even when he relaxes, it still feels strained.

Before he can even tell him that it's fine, he doesn't have to be that tense, Doyoung speaks up in that same hushed way. "How are you doing, honestly?"

Fingertips tracing the pattern on his faded bedsheet, Taeyong tries to delay answering. Truthfully, he doesn't know exactly how he's doing. He hasn't let himself have the time to think about it, because if he did, he's scared that he'll never get out of it.

"As okay as I can be right now," he replies bleakly.

He sees Doyoung's hand knock knuckles against his. "You don't have to be okay right now."

Spreading out his fingers on the bed, Taeyong stares at the distances between each one. "She liked the beach, did you know?"

Even though he doesn't really see it, he can feel Doyoung shake his head. "Yeah? Did you take her often?"

Taeyong nods. "Mmm. She loves the one in my hometown the most. Digs up the best twigs there."

Doyoung huffs a little laugh. He uses his pointer finger to jump between the spaces of Taeyong's fingers.

"She's so excited when it came to water. God, I didn't think I'd see her so easily run towards the sea every time we were close enough to it." He shakes his head, closes his eyes to imagine this flurry of dark fur charge towards the shore. "She'd come back with seaweed sticking to her and several little treasures she found, and she'd present it to me like they were gifts. I took them like they were."

Ruby had always been so enthusiastic about her little gifts, may it be twigs or her nasty hairballs. It was the charming thing about her, just constantly wanting to offer what she could to Taeyong and everybody else she liked. And no matter what she brought, even if it was a little... weird, it was a gift all the same.

"Tell me more?"

So that's what Taeyong does. He tells Doyoung all about Ruby. How tiny she was when he first saw her, how he had cradled her to his chest and refused to let go even when he was supposed to. The way that she tripped over her own self as she ran throughout the house when she was a puppy. All those times she hopped into Taeyong's bed to snuggle with him, even when she got a little too big to do that. Her favorite toy, a ratty old Pooh plushie that she never really stopped loving.

He tells Doyoung about how he couldn't work out at home because Ruby would always want to nose at him or ask to play instead. The way she sniffed at every package Taeyong got as if they were suspicious, and then nipping curiously at the corners while he opened them. Her whines whenever Taeyong tried to get her into any sort of harness or even just a cute little hat. All her favorite food, and how she had once stolen meat straight out of Taeyong's plate. How she would ask to come with him to the bathroom, and then stare judgingly at Taeyong while he pooped.

He tells him about that time he got injured in the slightest, just a little sprain, and she stayed by his side the entire time it healed. And that time Ruby almost tackled him to the ground in excitement when they met again after leaving her at his sister's for two days. And every single time she pushed her little squeaky ball to him whenever he was sad, knowing too well that Taeyong could never stay sad while he was playing with her.

All of this, he tells Doyoung, even though all those years Doyoung knew about all of it. Of course, Taeyong had sent him pretty much everything that Ruby did, thousands of pictures and videos over that time. He tells him, because it feels like through this, he can remember how it felt to have her, to have a friend that he knows would never leave.

And god, Taeyong's crying by the end of it, remembering how fast she would run whenever she heard Taeyong even attempt to open a chip packet. Sobs wrack him when he tries to tell Doyoung about how he never got to take her to a park again before she was gone. His tears make dull thuds onto his mattress and his nose is running and Doyoung's pulling him close.

The hug is too tight, but it feels right. It feels like somehow, Doyoung can hold him together for the meantime, and that's exactly what he needs. And Taeyong promised to himself not to cry too much, but god, how can he do that? How can he, when he lost his bestest friend?

"It's not fair," he gets out, burying his face into Doyoung's shirt. "Why did–why did the universe take her away from me now? It's just not fair–"

He breaks again, and he knows he can't get words out anymore. Doyoung is soothing him, careful even though he's probably not all that prepared for this. When Taeyong hiccups, Doyoung gets him to breathe slower, the hands on Taeyong's back warm through his shirt.

Once he's calmed down enough, not really sobbing anymore but still teary-eyed, Doyoung loosens his hold. Doesn't let him go, though, just gives him space again. He knows that Taeyong needs it, but also needs to be kept close.

Taeyong knows that he can't just say it's not fair. She had been sick for a while, had been struggling even before the whole pandemic situation started. It's just that the past few weeks, it had worsened, and it wasn't something either of them wanted.

But god, it was so painful to watch it happen. He just wanted to take it all away, and it feels so unfair that he couldn't even make it easier for her. He wanted to at least make her last moments less excruciating and more warm and safe, the same way she's always made him feel.

Doyoung notices that he's starting to cry again, and he pulls back to wipe at the tears the best he can. It's a lot, but he still tries.

“Sometimes, we can’t keep the things that we love, no matter how much we love them.” Doyoung’s fingers trace the shell of his ear, and it’s the gentlest touch in the world, yet it hurts so much. “We can’t do anything really, but I want you to remember that sometimes, loving them, loving all those things, it’s enough. It’s enough to love them, even if you can’t quite keep them here.”

When Doyoung cups the side of his face, thumb still drying his tears, Taeyong raises a hand to cover his and keep it there. He nods, sniffling. Doyoung's words ring true, even though they still make something deep in his ribs constrict.

We can't always keep what we love by our side forever, but that doesn't mean we haven't done enough.

"Yongie," Doyoung murmurs, pushing back Taeyong's faded, overgrown hair. "Let yourself feel what you have to feel, okay? This isn't going to be easy, and if you feel like crying, if you feel like just lying down for a few days, if you feel like not functioning for a while, know that you can do all of that. Please let yourself feel."

Nodding again, Taeyong snuggles in close. It's a bit too warm like this, but he doesn't want to move anymore, truthfully.

He remembers how he's been called a crybaby, how he's been told that he gets too emotional, and how that made him shut down so much of what he felt. Just pushed them down until he could barely see them anymore, pushed them into a place that he didn't have to look at again. For so long, he's deprived himself of the opportunity to _feel,_ especially emotions like these.

But now he knows he really should stop that habit. He can't just stop himself from being sad, from being angry and frustrated, from being devastated. No more of that.

Doyoung starts singing, soft and not entirely perfect, but Taeyong appreciates it all the same. It's been a while since he did this for him, and Taeyong briefly wonders why he ever stopped.

As Taeyong starts to drift off into sleep, all too exhausted, he reminds himself that it's okay to feel whatever he feels right now, with Doyoung singing him a lullaby with his arms around Taeyong. Warm and safe.

It's always felt like that with him.

* * *

From across the dining table, Doyoung gives him a look, the one that says he has something he wants to tell him but he's not sure if it's an okay time. Taeyong can sense it even with his eyes on his own laptop. 

"Yes, Doyoung?" 

"Do you remember that thing we used to do? The sending a message to everyone in our contacts and asking them to text us because we're bored and we have load?" 

That makes Taeyong look up. He nearly gapes at him.

"Oh my god, Doyoung. Please don't remind me of the GM days." 

Face brightening up immediately, Doyoung goes on. "Yeah, GMs! You used to _love_ those." 

"I swear to god, I _will_ stab you with my Apple Pencil if you bring up that dark part of my past." 

With a giggle, Doyoung closes the lid of his laptop. "But Yongie, you sent the best ones. Always started them off with an inspirational quote." 

Taeyong feels a whole body shudder go through him. He remembers going through his mom's quotable quotes book and choosing one that sounded nice. Or, if he ran out of quotes, he'd nudge at his sister to give him one. Often, she'd hand him a cutout from one of those magazines with the lyrics of songs.

"Yeah, and you quoted Alanis Morissette at age 11, Doyoung. I don't think 11-year-olds even understood what she meant!" 

Doyoung laughs, loud in their little space. "You were always sending GMs, like you always had load? I had to beg my mom to give me the unli text promo again."

"We had a loading station, remember? That's why we always had load.”

“Wish that were me.”

“Excuse me?” Taeyong closes the lid of his laptop too, furrowing his brows at Doyoung. “You had the Blackberry Curve before anyone else in our class did. I always wanted a phone like that.”

“Oh that? The hand-me-down from my uncle?” When Doyoung chuckles, it fills the room. “I thought I was the shit then because of that phone. Showed it off to everyone and wore it on that hideous green lanyard. And then I lost it.”

“You lost it?” 

Barely holding in the giggles bubbling out of him, Taeyong stares at him with wide eyes. Kim Doyoung, one of the most organized people he’s ever met, losing his fancy phone back in the day.

Across from him, Doyoung nods, solemn, even though his eyes are still crinkled from his smile. “Yeah, and I tried not to let my parents know. That didn’t work out so well.”

Taeyong laughs, really laughs now. He remembers 11-year-old Doyoung, limbs spangly and his eyes crystal clear and his voice even clearer, holding himself with all the certainty in the world. Taeyong used to think that Doyoung was maybe the only kid that would actually dare to look God in the face and challenge Him with all his brace-faced glory. He used to think that Doyoung was the type that he’d barely even be able to touch.

And there he was, most likely terrified of his parents finding out he lost his Blackberry. It was hilarious to him.

Doyoung scrunches his face, but the corners of his mouth are threatening to become a smile. That smile that Taeyong knows, the one he’ll recognize anywhere.

“Why’d you even bring that up?” 

He’s calmed down now. There are still a dozen things he has to do, but he kind of just wants to stay here and bask in that afterglow to laughing at something.

Shrugging, Doyoung gingerly opens his laptop again. “An old friend texted me, saying that I could text him any time to talk. It just reminded me of those days.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow. “Old friend?”

“Mmm.” Doyoung is back to typing, like he almost always is. “Remember Kun?”

“Kun texted _you?_ God, I haven’t even seen him in years.”

“Me either.” Doyoung’s voice is soft, nearly a whisper. 

Opening his laptop again, Taeyong takes a deep breath. He stares at his emails tab. He really should get around to replying to all of them and clearing his inbox.

“Do you miss him?”

Kun had been a mutual friend, although not someone Taeyong was all that close with. He only met him through Doyoung, bonded with him through the times that they were paired up or in a group, maybe went to get Coke Floats with him at the McDonald’s a couple times. The type that would greet him for the holidays and his birthday, and they didn’t really talk much beyond that. 

But with Doyoung, Taeyong wasn’t sure. They had seemed close, but Taeyong didn’t know much. Who he was friends with and who he was close to was for him to know.

Doyoung doesn’t answer right away, still very focused on his screen and what he’s typing. He’s even mouthing the words as he types, a habit Taeyong feels he’s not that aware of. At this point, Taeyong isn’t sure what project he’s working on, but it’s one of the ten (twelve? fifteen? whatever).

He hits what seems to be the period, absently pressing the enter button. “Sometimes.” Doyoung nods, but doesn’t look at him. “When I remember to.”

Opening one of the emails, Taeyong puts his fingers on his keyboard. Types out the word _miss_ again and again, and deletes it as soon as he’s pressed the last _s._ “Were you close?”

At that, Doyoung lets out a soft sigh. “I guess. I mean, we used to talk about how much we loved the Black Eyed Peas and Pink, and how we wanted an album of theirs for our birthdays. We were so convinced that that was our grown-up goal, buying albums like that.”

With a shake of his head, Doyoung positions his fingers on his keyboard, knowing exactly where to put them. Taeyong hears him start to type again, quick and sure. 

“And he used to send me these cute gifs for the holidays. Never missed one in what, four years? A pretty long time. I guess I miss that.”

Taeyong manages to write out the first sentence of a reply to the email. _Hi Seulgi! Of course I can -_

“You miss how it used to be.” It’s not a question.

Doyoung nods again, biting on one side of his lip. “That’s usually the case with missing something or someone, yeah.” He hits the enter button again. “We all move on, we all grow and change, but it wouldn’t be so bad to crave the simplicity of pre-teen musings with a friend.”

Pursing his lips, Taeyong nods in agreement. He does msis that, whenever he remembers them. Those days were good. Not the best, but good. They weren’t captured in photos quite as much, but the moments like those, they were the ones that you’d miss if you really started to think about things.

Both of them settle into silence again, going back to whatever they were supposed to be working on. When Taeyong finally finishes his reply and hits send, he wonders if Doyoung will reply too.

* * *

Living with someone comes with the benefit of finding out things that you wouldn’t have ever found out otherwise. Taeyong realizes this one rainy Tuesday.

"Is that a wedding video?"

Doyoung nearly drops his phone. "It's not–"

Bounding up to where Doyoung is lounging on the couch, Taeyong gets a closer look. "Oh my god, it is!"

A bright pink tinges his best friend's entire face. "Okay, so – so what?"

Grin spreading across his face, Taeyong pokes his cheek. "Hey, no need to be embarrassed about it."

He makes his way around the couch to sit, making Doyoung give him space. There's a pout on Doyoung, and it only makes Taeyong laugh.

Wedding videos and Kim Doyoung. Well, he certainly never imagined he'd see those in the same sentence ever.

To his credit, Doyoung does look embarrassed about it. He's locked his phone, putting it on the coffee table.

"Hey, you don't have to stop watching it!" Taeyong says, reaching over so that he can take the phone and thrust it back into Doyoung's hand. "Go right ahead."

"You're gonna make fun of me!"

Shrugging, Taeyong kicks at him playfully. It only makes Doyoung pout even more. "Yeah, but go do your own thing, y'know?"

"I hate you."

Laughing, Taeyong leans forward to try to hug him. He gets halfway before Doyoung attempts to push him off.

He gets Doyoung's phone, unlocks it (his password has been the same forever), and looks at the video. It's a celebrity video, one of those weddings in Baguio. Taeyong gives Doyoung a look.

"Really?"

Doyoung snatches the phone from him. "Let me be romantic in peace."

Taeyong can physically feel his grin grow wider. He attempts to go for the hug again, and Doyoung allows him this time.

Poking at his cheek again, Taeyong croons, "Romantic Doyoungieee."

His best friend scowls, but doesn't push him away. He just tries to avoid Taeyong's gaze, which makes Taeyong want to tease him a little bit more.

"Come on," he says, adjusting himself so that he's snuggled against Doyoung. "Tell me about the wedding videos you've watched."

Sighing, Doyoung shifts so that they're both comfortably nestled. He looks like he's trying to think of what he's seen so far, but Taeyong also thinks that he's still doing his best not to meet Taeyong's gaze.

He starts with talking about how that video he was watching was really beautiful. The couple had an intimate wedding, not a whole lot of guests, and everything was simple yet artsy. It was just carefully done, and it was all the little details that made it special.

After that, Doyoung launches into a full-on discussion on luxury weddings. He thinks they're excessive, but they're pretty nice to watch and look at. There was this one wedding where they had a whole music festival before the wedding, and over 300 people went to it. It was a massive beach wedding, and they had live bands performing then. Even though Doyoung says that was a bit too much, Taeyong still sees the light in his eyes while he talks about it.

In the middle of him describing this cute themed wedding he saw, Taeyong wonders what Doyoung's ideal wedding would be like. They never really talked about it, since Doyoung has never been fond of the idea of getting married. It's mostly been Johnny who Taeyong could talk to about that sort of thing, and he hasn't really tried with Doyoung.

So this, seeing how he gets excited about wedding videos, is something he never would've thought would happen, or that he would get to witness. It's endearing to see.

His thoughts stray to dangerous places when he starts to think about what would be a nice wedding for them. Something simple maybe, something blue? Maybe Taeyong could hand-paint the invites. Maybe they could have it at a beach. Maybe...

Taeyong looks up at Doyoung, who's now talking about this wedding aisle that had poetry on it, and he pushes down all those thoughts. Doyoung is smiling, just a bit, and his voice is pitched higher than usual, and Taeyong tells himself that this is not happening. He feels a little prickle at his chest, and he only takes a deep breath.

"What would you want for your wedding?" he asks softly. It stops Doyoung almost immediately, and his eyes widen just a fraction.

"I–I've never thought about it," Doyoung admits sheepishly. "I dunno, I always thought I wouldn't get married."

"Why?"

Pursing his lips, he looks away again, staring at the ceiling. He shrugs. "I don't think I'm going to be a lifetime partner, y'know? Okay, I'm working on myself and all that, but I just don't think I'm suited for that sort of thing. Like, I don't think I'm someone to wake up to in the mornings and to come home to after long days."

Taeyong tries not to stare at him. That morning, he had woken up with Doyoung in his bed, as he has been staying there for the past few weeks now. He had done his best not to watch his best friend sleep peacefully, tucking away the now-long strands of Doyoung's hair.

He also does not want to think about how they eat together after their long days, every day without fail. It doesn't matter if they're both drained from work and all the video calls they've had to survive, they will cook and eat together.

"You don't know that," he says, because he can't say much else.

Doyoung shrugs again. "That's true. But still. I feel like I'm really not for it."

Toying with the bracelet on his wrist, Taeyong asks, "But would you want it? If, say, the right person comes into your life, would you want to get married?"

His best friend takes a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling. "I don't really believe in the whole right person thing, because nobody is going to be an absolute perfect match, but I believe that if they can make it work, they're worth keeping."

"You didn't answer the question."

Chuckling, Doyoung shakes his head. "Maybe. A little cheesy to say, but I think I'll know. If...if I wanted to marry them."

Before Taeyong could even ask how he would know, he asks something else: "Again, what type of wedding would you want?"

Just a bit, Doyoung relaxes, like he's been wanting to be asked this. Taeyong wonders again how much he doesn't know about him and the things he's considered.

Apparently, Doyoung wants a backyard wedding, maybe at his childhood home. An intimate wedding then, with fairy lights and lots of fresh flowers and family and closest friends there. He wants to have soft music and he wants to sing when his soon-to-be-spouse walks down the aisle. Doyoung even shows him a pin of this particular cake he wants, all berries and simple frosting.

So he's thought about it somehow. He's considered what he wants, this little dream wedding of his. Every detail he mentions makes something warm bloom in Taeyong's heart. He wants to wish that his best friend gets all of that for his special day.

Taeyong doesn't tease him about it anymore, he merely listens while Doyoung talks about it. It's such a nice dream, and something that sounds so Doyoung. Nothing too frilly, nothing complicated. Just something beautiful and good and enjoyable. A perfect day.

Through the many thoughts running in Taeyong's mind, Doyoung breaks through with a statement. "I don't know if I'll ever get it though. I mean it's fine–"

"You'll get it," Taeyong murmurs, letting a corner of his mouth tilt up. "I'll help you get it, of course."

"As my best man or as my fiancé?" Doyoung jokes lightheartedly.

He gets a hit on the arm for that and a look. Doyoung's laughing, getting his phone with the intention of showing Taeyong a wedding video he liked. As he pulls up the video, Taeyong tells himself that he should never try to answer that question.

* * *

“You know what we haven’t tried yet?” Doyoung asks him, sipping on the last of his morning fruit juice.

“Uh. Couple’s yoga?”

“Kissing. We haven’t tried kissing yet.”

Taeyong almost falls off of the sofa, cup of coffee and all. “Excuse me?”

Doyoung only shrugs, setting his glass down on the coffee table. He has a little bit of an orange juice mustache on his upper lip. “Kissing. It’s a thing that couples do, and we’re technically a couple.”

“Any time you have to say ‘technically’, it sounds suspicious.” Taeyong gets up to put his mug in the sink. And maybe distance himself from Doyoung while he’s at it. He even runs water over his mug just to buy a few more seconds of time.

“Honestly, I keep wondering why we never did it.”

Gripping the edge of the sink, Taeyong takes in a deep breath. “Uh, because it would be weird? I mean, we’re best friends. Last time I checked, best friends don’t just make out.”

He doesn’t turn to face him, but he has a feeling that Doyoung’s pursed his lips. “Well. We’re not just that now.”

His words rattle around in Taeyong’s brain. Yeah, they’re...not just best friends now. They’re together, in practically every sense of the word.

Taeyong forces himself to go back to the couch. So this was going to be a conversation between them now. Kissing. God.

Sitting down on the other end, he tries not to pull his knees up. Doyoung’s watching him closely, so he does his best not to squirm.

“I mean, you know, if you’re okay with that.” His voice still has that same casual tone, like he really doesn’t mind if Taeyong says no to all of this. “Are you okay with that?”

He only stares at him. Taeyong doesn’t think he has an actual answer for that, not anything now that isn’t a particularly dangerous choice. 

All he knows is that a tiny part of him wants to try it, and he knows he’ll regret it afterwards.

“It wouldn’t hurt, right?” he manages. His heart is pressing painfully against his ribs, and he hopes that Doyoung just goes with it before he passes out.

Doyoung’s brows furrow slightly. “Yongie, I’m not gonna do it if you’re not okay with it.”

He appreciates that. Taeyong takes in a shaky breath, willing his hands to unclench.

“I’m okay with it.” It’s not a lie, he knows, but his heart is still beating ridiculously fast. “I promise. I’m okay with this.”

Doyoung studies him for another long moment. In that time, Taeyong thinks that Doyoung is already starting to back out of this whole thing, but then he moves. Not to loom over him, not to cup his face, but to reach for his hands.

Thumbs rubbing over his knuckles, Doyoung murmurs, “You’re so tense. It’s just me, isn’t it?” His eyes are downcast, lashes fluttering. “It’s just Doyoung.”

The thing is, it’s not _just_ Doyoung. It’s Kim Doyoung, best friend since they got candy stuck in their braces, the very same guy he’s had to live with all these months, the very same one that Taeyong is carefully toeing around. The Kim Doyoung that’s his sorta-kinda-boyfriend, the one that makes him wish that all of this would’ve happened under different, better circumstances.

It’s not _just_ kissing Doyoung.

“I guess I should warn you that this isn’t my strongest suit.” Doyoung chuckles, shaking his head. “So yeah. Don’t be nervous about kissing someone who isn’t the best kisser out there.”

Taeyong’s endeared by that, making one side of his mouth tilt up into a smile. He relaxes a little, lets Doyoung wiggle his fingers between his. 

“That’s the humblest I’ve seen you,” Taeyong jokes. It makes Doyoung whip his head up and give him a withering look.

“You really need to say that, huh? I’m already embarrassed enough admitting it!”

He laughs. Taeyong slowly lowers his knees, opening his legs to give Doyoung space. His head feels like it’s been stuffed with that wool sweater Doyoung always wears and he can’t really think, can only move his limbs. There’s a question in Doyoung’s eyes, asking again if he’s sure. Taeyong is sure, and that should honestly scare him.

He nods, tightening his hold on Doyoung’s hands ever so slightly. Doyoung comes closer, just enough, before leaning in.

It’s barely there. Taeyong holds his breath, waiting, but Doyoung doesn’t press further. The kiss feels like the first one he ever got, sweet and hesitant and clueless about how all this works. It makes his heart press further into the spaces of his ribcage.

“Sorry, I –” is what Doyoung tries when they break apart, but he can’t really finish it. He adjusts, and it’s a little awkward with all their limbs and the tiny couch and the way that Taeyong has no idea what he wants to do. 

When he comes back, pressing his lips to him with more intent, his thumbs rubbing over the backs of Taeyong’s hands, Taeyong thinks his chest might just collapse on itself. He kisses back, meeting him with every little move. Doyoung inhales, like he’s been holding his breath too, and Taeyong just wants to kiss him even more.

This should break his heart. This isn’t really for him to keep, for him to have, because whatever they have isn’t for this. It’s for joking around with each other and sharing breakfast conversation and sleeping in separate rooms and dancing to Britney songs. Not kissing tenderly on this couch for two, with their hands intertwined like they’re really together.

But god, it doesn’t hurt. Doyoung is gentle, yet also eager to learn. Like he wants to know how to make Taeyong smile in the middle of it, how to get him wanting more, how to have him tighten his grip on his hands again. It’s so endearing, so him, that Taeyong wants to pull him close and not let go.

Doyoung pulls away, eyes wide and a little dazed. He even moves to untangle his fingers from Taeyong’s, but doesn’t do it all the way.

“I promise I’m not that bad usually…”

Taeyong almost laughs. He’s breathless too, even though the whole thing wasn’t intense at all. There’s a big possibility that he wouldn’t be able to breathe well for the rest of the day after this anyways.

“It was okay,” he assures him, offering a small smile. “Not bad at all.”

There’s the beginning of a smile on Doyoung’s face, and it’s almost shy. For a second, he looks like he wants to lean back in, but he stops himself. Taeyong wonders why, but at the same time, he’s silently grateful that he doesn’t.

Doyoung settles back into his side of the couch. They don’t speak, because what is there to say anyways? There’s some fumbling for the remote, and Doyoung turns the TV on for their sake, flicking through the channels to drown out the silence.

As they both pretend to watch the morning news, Taeyong licks the taste of orange juice off of his lips.

* * *

Apparently, Doyoung likes to kiss.

He comes up to Taeyong in the mornings, winding an arm around him, his kisses syrup-sweet. It's warm and it's playful and he pulls away to tease, but he always comes back anyways. Backs Taeyong against the kitchen counter and smiles into it, so much less shy than he was the first time.

He kisses Taeyong on their movie nights, leans across that small distance between them on the couch and smooches the corners of Taeyong's mouth, going back to watching the movie like nothing happened. There'll be a smug little grin on his face, and Taeyong would roll his eyes before getting up and kissing him himself.

He especially likes the kisses when he's straight out of the shower, pressing his cold lips against Taeyong's skin to watch him jump. Once Taeyong whirls around and gives him a withering look, Doyoung will only laugh and pull him in, mouth warmer when he kisses Taeyong for the second time.

But Taeyong likes the ones just before they sleep, little smooches that never truly deepen, their limbs tangling and hands warm through shirts. Doyoung does this thing where he nuzzles against Taeyong before giving him another chaste kiss, and it makes everything in Taeyong's body buzz. Most of the time they fall asleep mid-kiss, which is kind of the worst and best thing to do really.

Point is, they're kissing quite a lot now. That's a fact that hasn't truly sunk in yet.

It's just kissing, though. Hands don't really travel much, there's nothing desperate about it. Sometimes it goes a little further and Taeyong's trying to catch his breath after it, but nothing actually intense. Just kissing.

But sometimes (most times) it feels like it could be more. When Doyoung laces their fingers together and holds on tight, Taeyong aches. When Doyoung presses himself close, all warmth and strength and the scent of rain, Taeyong thinks so much of his resolve breaks down. When Doyoung presses his lips against his temples and his knuckles and his shoulders, Taeyong has to tell himself not to ask for more.

And on nights that they're exhausted and bleary-eyed and dancing to stupid songs, Taeyong digs his nails into his palms to stop himself from doing something he'll regret. Doyoung notices, because of course he does, and he tries to get Taeyong to relax. His hands are softer and less calloused than Taeyong's, but stable in a way that Taeyong could only hope for.

Once he's unclenched Taeyong's hands, Doyoung will bring them up to cup his cheeks. He still has some squish in them, and when he grins that smile that has only ever been his, Taeyong thinks that he would actually want to kiss this man until the world collapses.

They would fall onto the couch, far too lazy to get up and walk the few paces to either of the bedrooms. On these nights, they'd be too tired to even try to make out, but there are half-asleep kisses on foreheads, wrists, eyelids. Taeyong feels like the world will truly shatter if they stay like this, but he stays. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

And on the mornings that he wakes up earlier than Doyoung (rare, but it still happens), he'd sit up and stare at his walls or out his windows. Somehow, Doyoung always manages to pull him back to bed, sleepily placing a kiss wherever he can reach. It always ends up with Taeyong stuck with him until Doyoung does decide to wake up, and it's another morning that Taeyong can't have the space to think.

What does he even have to think about, really? Well. A lot of things, actually.

For example, if this is a good idea. Sure, they both agreed to it and they're both clearly enjoying it, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea. They've clearly blurred way too many lines now, and it's hard to come back from this, reverse any of this. They've gone and done it already.

Or if this will lead to other things. Taeyong doesn't want to think about what things exactly, but it's inevitable. If it does lead to other things, how far are they gonna let it go? If it doesn't, what's going to happen then?

What they're doing is not exactly what they had thought they would do all those months ago, but wasn't it supposed to lead to this anyways? Whatever this is. Taeyong isn't sure what it is. Cuddles and kissing? Domesticity? Being people who are _actually_ dating? He has no idea.

Doyoung grumbles in his sleep, pulling Taeyong closer. Gently, like he's afraid he'll wake him, Taeyong cards his fingers through his hair, staring at Doyoung's long lashes.

He really needs to have plenty of time to think.

* * *

Doyoung's phone rings in the middle of him preparing dinner. He asks Taeyong to watch over what he's cooking while he picks it up. Taeyong gets a glance of the caller ID and how it makes Doyoung's face light up just a bit.

"Hyung," he says when he picks up. "I keep forgetting that I should sent that video greeting for–"

There's a pause, and it makes Taeyong look up. Doyoung's back is turned to him, and he sees the slight tension there now.

"No, I–I haven't heard–" His hand comes to grip at the edge of the counter. "Since when?"

Taeyong returns to minding the food. It was clearly a conversation he wasn't supposed to be hearing. Besides, Doyoung is walking away from the kitchen, still talking to his brother in a hushed, frantic tone.

The food is mostly done by the time that Doyoung reappears, hair a little ruffled and his expression void of any of the brightness from earlier. It sends a spike of worry through Taeyong, and he immediately pauses what he's doing.

"I need to go home," is all that Doyoung gets out, his voice quieter than Taeyong's heard it in a while.

"Home?" Taeyong asks, getting confused. "Like, your apartment home or–"

"Home as in Batangas, Taeyong." He looks at everything but Taeyong, running his hand through his hair. "I need to– eomma is sick–"

That makes Taeyong's blood turn to ice. "Sick? What do you mean, sick? Does she have–"

"No, no." Doyoung shakes his head, a little frantically. "It's not covid. It's... She's had kidney problems in the past, and she's gone through dialysis, but it's suddenly come back and I need to go home..."

Taeyong steps forward, debates putting his hands on him. He figures it's not really the time, but god does he want to hug him.

"It's fine. Go if you have to." He's trying to look Doyoung in the eye, but he's obviously distressed. "Do you have the permits, all that? I can help–"

"I do." Doyoung nods as if to punctuate his point, looking at Taeyong straight for the first time since he came back. "I can go tomorrow. I might be gone for a while though."

Of course Taeyong understands. This was his mom, someone that Doyoung cares about more than pretty much anyone else. And this, whatever was going on with her health, it was serious, and Taeyong doesn't expect him to hurry with it.

"Okay." He reaches out, gently brushes his fingertips against his arm. It's a measly attempt at comforting, but he thinks that if he does any more, Doyoung will flinch away. "Okay. Take your time, there's no rush to this."

Doyoung looks relieved to hear that, letting go of a breath he was holding. He even raises a hand to hold Taeyong's, the thumb rubbing against his knuckles more for himself than for Taeyong, really.

That night, Doyoung packs. There really isn't much to pack, since he keeps promising that he'll be back as soon as possible, and Taeyong keeps telling him that it's fine, he can stay there as long as he needs. Everything's interspersed with Doyoung getting calls from his brother, and now it's Taeyong that has to get Doyoung to eat something. The tension makes Taeyong uneasy too, but he has to keep himself steady for the both of them.

Later, while they lie in bed and Doyoung says sorry for how much he's squeezing Taeyong's hands, Taeyong feels a different sort of ache. It doesn't go away when he envelops Doyoung in his arms and tries to rock him to sleep, it doesn't go away when he presses his lips to his forehead and murmurs that he should get some rest. It stays even when Doyoung finally succumbs to it, and Taeyong is stuck watching how his lashes flutter as he dreams.

It's still there when Taeyong lets himself sink into his sheets too.

* * *

He leaves early. There really isn't much traffic these days, but he still wants to make sure that he doesn't waste too much time out on the road. Taeyong gets that.

The day is suffocatingly warm for a -ber month, but that's how the world is now, Taeyong guesses. Doyoung already has his mask on, his eyes tired but determined. He looks like he didn't get an entire second of real rest the previous night. Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek.

When everything's set and all the bags are in the car, Doyoung turns to him. There's a hint of softness in his face now, so typical of how he usually is in the mornings.

"I'll be back," he promises, holding his arms open. Taeyong walks into the hug.

"You don't have to say that." Taeyong inhales the scent of his fabric softener. "Promise me that you'll keep safe instead."

He can feel him nod. "I will. I will, okay?"

Once in the car, Doyoung peeks out the window to give him the tiniest bit of a smile. Taeyong returns it.

When he comes back to his apartment, Taeyong washes their two coffee mugs carefully.

* * *

**[tokki]** **  
**why r u still up

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**it’s like u don’t know me

 **[tokki]** **  
**taeyong.  
sleep.

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**later

 **[tokki]** **  
**remind me to fix your sleep sched when i get back

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**:P  
ur not asleep either

 **[tokki]** **  
**that’s fair  
i had to, we’re taking turns watching over

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**how is she?

 **[tokki]** **  
**better, but still not at the best  
they’re going to take more tests tmrw

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**if only i could come there to help ;;;;

 **[tokki]** **  
**it’s ok  
all of this its out of our control now  
we just need to wait

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**take care of urself too ok?

 **[tokki]** **  
**of course

* * *

**[tokki]** **  
**i miss u

Taeyong looks at the message notification until his phone sleeps. His fingers are poised on his keyboard, ready to type out his response to Ten’s email about the new lessons, but he’s already forgotten what he was supposed to say. 

**[yongieeee]** **  
**i miss u too

He’s said that hundreds, maybe thousands of times throughout the years of their friendships. Quick little texts before he was dragged to the beach when he spent summer at the family home, whispered into late night calls because he wasn’t supposed to be on his phone past 10pm, written into their high school farewell letters only to end up going to the same university, typed into the chat box when he hadn’t had lunch with Doyoung in over a week. He should be used to it, right?

 **[tokki]** **  
**i need a good cuddle rn

 **[yongieeee]** **  
**i kinda do too lol  
is everything alright there?

 **[tokki]** **  
**yes, everything’s okay here  
is it alright to call rn?

Taeyong stares at that again for a few beats. Then, before he overthinks it, he sends a reply: **_yes._ **

It rings not even 10 seconds later.

“Hello?” Taeyong says as soon as he answers.

 _“Hi.”_ He doesn’t know how exactly, but he can clearly imagine Doyoung smiling just a bit. _“Hi, Taeyong.”_

The sound of his name in his voice, the first he’s really heard it in more than a week, almost makes Taeyong jolt. Drawing his knees up, Taeyong tucks himself into the seat of his chair. 

“Hi Doyoung.” It’s a little too soft to be heard, he thinks, but Doyoung picks it up, humming. 

Oddly enough, Taeyong has already kind of forgotten the exact features of his face. Like, he knows his smile and the way his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches, but he can’t quite put everything together. Maybe this is from not sleeping so much the past few days, or maybe he really, really misses him. 

_“Are you busy?”_

By the tone of his voice, he’s hoping that Taeyong isn’t. Truth be told, Taeyong has to finish up a few things for today, but he can spare some time for this. Of course he can.

He shakes his head, momentarily forgetting that Doyoung can’t see. “No.” Standing up, he pads over to his window, watches as his neighbors sit by their ledge, talking idly. “I’m just sitting around.”

There’s a snort from the other end. _“You never do that.”_

Shrugging, Taeyong lies down, holding the phone to his ear. “I might.”

 _“I know you don’t.”_

“Did you call to tease me and my work habits?”

Doyoung laughs on the other end, soft but hearty all the same. There’s some shuffling, like Doyoung’s shifting into a more comfortable position. _“Maybe. But also I miss you.”_

“You already said that.” Not that Taeyong minds actually hearing it, but he doesn’t have to know that.

 _“And you like me saying it.”_ Oh, he can definitely see Doyoung’s smug expression right now, and if he were closer, he would’ve wiped that expression right off his face. 

Taeyong plays with the tassels of his blanket. “Now why did you actually want to call me?”

_“Can’t I just want to hear your voice?”_

It’s a good thing this is just a voice call, because Taeyong feels heat rise in his cheeks. He takes in a deep breath as quietly as he could, steeling himself for a response. 

“I can’t believe you’re the sappy one of us now.”

That earns him another laugh, just slightly louder now. It makes his chest tighten. _“Quarantine changes people.”_

 _Relationships do too,_ is what Taeyong holds himself back from saying.

Taeyong asks about Doyoung’s mom, then Doyoung asks about how work has been. They talk about how different quarantine is in the province, and how much they miss being home. It then becomes a whole discussion on how to properly make bibingka, even though they both grew up with very different versions of it. 

Talking with Doyoung makes him feel giddy, like he’s reconnecting after a while of not talking to each other. It makes him hug a pillow, makes him smile to himself, and it’s a little stupid but Taeyong guesses that he’s been like this about him for a while, just that he hasn’t been admitting it to himself.

And Doyoung’s voice is quiet but laced with something bright, like he’s excited about this too. His pitch rises before he realizes and he lowers it again, like a kid not wanting to get caught. It’s so endearing and so much the Doyoung that Taeyong knows, and even though he’s about two, three hours away, it’s like he’s just there with him right now. 

When the call ends Taeyong wishes it didn’t have to. His computer screen still glows faintly from his desk, but he really can’t get himself to get up anymore. It’s a little hard to breathe now, and he’s so, so happy but he’s also terrified.

He had almost, ALMOST, said that he wanted to kiss him. It was his damn voice, the way that Taeyong could practically _feel_ his smile, his giggles that make everything in Taeyong buzz to life. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to cup his face in his hands and hold him close and kiss him until they both stop laughing.

And god, he’s so happy, so fucking thankful to his past self that he took some time away to answer that call, but why does he feel like everything is not for him to keep? This little ray of sunshine in these constantly bleary times, why does he feel like he’s going to lose it?

* * *

**[tokki]** **  
**coming back tmrw  
can’t wait to see u!

* * *

As usual, the first thing Doyoung does when he gets back is take a hot shower, throwing his clothes immediately into the washing machine. He even throws his overnight bag in, not wanting it to linger in the living area. As clean and careful as possible. 

Taeyong gets a greeting in before he’s zooming to the bathroom. Once the door clicks shut behind him, Taeyong gets to cleaning the doorknob. He knows that Doyoung had tested negative while he was there, but it doesn’t mean that he didn’t bring anything when he had traveled back to here. So he cleans the thing, spritzes disinfectant on it twice.

He cleans the doorknob to the bathroom too, and he hears the shower running just beyond it. Somehow, it both twists his guts and makes him breathe easier all at the same time.

Truthfully, he hasn’t known how to feel about Doyoung coming back. He still wasn’t used to not seeing him in the kitchen, preparing something that could constitute a meal for them. He wasn’t used to not having Doyoung sprawled out on his couch, flicking through the shows on Netflix because he was bored. He wasn’t used to not hearing those gentle knocks at his bedroom door, reminding him to eat something or drink water or to just come out for a bit.

But Doyoung could have easily gone back to his actual apartment. It wasn’t far, he didn’t need a quarantine pass to get to it. He could’ve driven straight there after coming from his parent’s home and gone back to his normal life (or as normal as it could be with them still in quarantine). After all, he had talked about how much he missed his own bed and his sheets and all his books there.

He didn’t, though. Doyoung is here, now, showering in Taeyong’s bathroom and most likely ready to settle back in after two weeks of having been gone. It should’ve made him happy, giddy, but Taeyong has no idea what he should feel. All he does is scrub the doorknob clean.

Afterwards, Taeyong sits at the dining table, too uneasy to settle on the couch. God, he's not sure why he feels like this. It's all wrong, and everything in him is chiding himself.

He should be happy, he knows he should be. Things weren't the same during those two weeks, and he had craved the comfort of the routine that they had settled into. Taeyong had missed him. It's a truth he can't escape.

By the time that Doyoung's out of the shower, dressed and with a towel over his shoulders, Taeyong's gripping his mug a little too tightly. He had gone to get himself the already-cold coffee from earlier, as if that would help him at all with his nerves.

"Hey," Doyoung greets. He pads to the fridge, gets their pitcher of water to pour out a glass for himself. "It's almost 5. Maybe we should decide on what to have for dinner?"

Taeyong doesn't answer right away. He only cups his stiff fingers around his mug of neglected coffee. 

There's still a package of pasta somewhere, and he knows he still has some chicken in the freezer. He really needed to go to the grocery tomorrow, but there's at least enough for them to put together a pretty decent dinner –

"I don't think we should have dinner," he says before he can think of his words. Taeyong's pretty sure his nails have dug into the ceramic of his mug.

"Hmm?" Doyoung puts his glass down on the counter, turning to face him. "Why? Do we not have food anymore? I could pop out quickly if you want –"

"Doyoung," Saying his name tugs at something in him. "I don't think you should stay here."

He sees the exact moment confusion dawns on Doyoung's face. Doyoung's trying not to furrow his brows, but his eyes have widened. "I – what?"

Withdrawing his hands, Taeyong twists his fingers together in his lap. He's here already, he shouldn't back out, right?

He can't quite look Doyoung in the eye, though.

"I need...I need some space. Having you here, I don't know. It's..." He shakes his head, searches for the right words. "It's been a hard time for me."

"You can tell me if I need to do anything. Should I clean more, should I contribute to the rent, the bills? I realize that you've been paying for all of this –"

It's not the reasons that Taeyong has.

"Doyoung." He's pleading now, hoping that he understands. "Please, I can't do this."

For a long, withering moment, Doyoung just looks at him. He's breathing hard, and Taeyong knows he's having all these thoughts run through his head, trying to make sense of what Taeyong's saying.

"Taeyong." His voice, the way that he says his name, it feels like a punch to the gut. "Explain to me, please. What's going on?"

He forces himself to keep looking at him. It's the absolute least that he can do.

"I don't like this...arrangement that we have. Don't you think we're wasting our time? I mean, I know we said we should just try, but it's not like we're actually _together_ together. I don't want us to force ourselves just because we were stuck together all these months."

From the counter, Doyoung stares. He doesn't look like he's breathing anymore, and his expression is blank. Taeyong thinks he should be afraid of that, because he's fully expected some sort of outburst at his words.

When there's still no response, Taeyong pushes on.

"Did this work for us, Doyoung? Did this actually prove that we should really consider being more than just friends? I don't think it did. And I doubt that continuing this will prove that. All of this isn't –"

"Anything," Doyoung breathes out. "It isn't anything."

Taeyong offers a tight-lipped smile. He wants to take it all back, to say that he really missed him. The expression on Doyoung's face is enough to twist a knife into his heart. But god, having him here for even a second longer and Taeyong thinks that he might just blurt out everything he promised himself he won't say.

"Yeah, it isn't anything."

He pushes away every memory. All the dancing, all the breakfast conversations, all the times they laughed at the characters on the screen. All the grocery runs that they had to hurry around the store for. All the times Doyoung rubbed a thumb against his stomach when they snuggled together in Taeyong's bed. All the times Doyoung held his hands when they kissed. He pushes them all away. He simply doesn't have a use for them anymore, since he already said that this was nothing to him.

Doyoung nods. It's unnerving, because Taeyong thought he'd argue, scream, anything. But he nods, because all Kim Doyoung has done is respect Taeyong's decisions.

"Okay. Give me an hour tops, I'll be out of here." The way he says it is so quiet, but there's no waver in his voice. Doyoung would never let him know that he breaks.

Taeyong allows him. It's the last thing he thinks he can do. It was cruel, to tell his best friend to leave barely an hour after arriving. Absolutely fucking cruel to do this to him after having to come home because he was worried about his mother. 

He casts his glance down to the last of his drink. Taeyong doesn't think he'll be able to stomach anything right now as he listens to Doyoung leave the kitchen to get his stuff. 

It feels like both an eternity and barely any time has passed by the time that Doyoung's in jeans and his hoodie, ready to go out. He's hooking the loops of the face mask behind his ears, never once looking up. Taeyong knows that he deserves to never be looked at again.

"Take care, Taeyong," is all that Doyoung says, gentle as ever, before hauling his bags out of the apartment and closing the door behind him.

After a few beats have passed and Taeyong knows it's too late to even attempt to call him back, Taeyong downs the last of his coffee and wills himself to go to bed.

* * *

_“The President has discussed the need for an enhanced community quarantine starting next week–”_

Taeyong squeezes the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t even need to hear the rest of it to know that whatever they’re implementing isn’t going to be as effective as they think it will be.

Looking at the wall clock in the kitchen, he sighs. Might as well try to get groceries while it isn’t all crazy lines again. 

Besides, Taeyong thinks he needs to go on a walk.

* * *

When his coffee maker inevitably breaks down, Taeyong takes out the tea. He’s not much of a tea drinker to be honest, but it’s all the caffeine he has left in his home.

Opening the tin can with the tea bags is bringing up too many things. It smells like 10pm with their laptops back to back, both of them typing away and barely talking. It smells like 3am when they’ve binged too hard on a series and they don’t seem to have any plans to sleep. It smells like all the times Taeyong’s been enveloped in a wordless embrace.

He puts the can back, right next to the pack of bread flour that he wasn’t likely to use, and he closes the cabinet.

* * *

Taeyong doesn’t dance.

Not because he chooses not to, no. He just can’t.

And really, he tries. He goes through his music library, he puts in CDs he got from so long ago, he lets the songs echo around his apartment over and over. Usually, he’d find himself moving to it, anything, but he hasn’t.

He only dances for the classes. Which, well, doesn’t really feel like he’s actually dancing. It doesn’t feel like him at all.

Ten notices, because that’s what he does. He tells Taeyong to take a couple of days off and he’ll handle the classes for a while. Taeyong almost argues with him, but there isn’t a way to win that argument with him.

It’s been a week, and he still doesn’t dance.

With a sigh, he just brings his phone and the speaker over to his desk. He sets them down near the wall, plopping himself down into his chair. This playlist has been playing steadily over the week, all songs he had added whenever he thought that they might be good to dance to someday. 

Tapping on his screen, he switches the playlist. It’s more of just a collection of music he’s really liked, and he still very much likes. Truthfully, it’s a lot of different genres and vibes, but he doesn’t mind that.

On his desk is his sketchbook, untouched for a bit now. He doesn’t even remember the last _anything_ he did in it. It’s just been a while, and too many things were happening. He opens to that page. 

Taeyong finds a half-finished drawing. He can go back to it, finish it before he starts something new. Well, if he can start something new.

He traces the lines with his fingertips. Taeyong doesn’t remember what got him to draw this, and what made him stop. Maybe he got busy?

With the next blank page, he just runs his knuckles against it. He doesn’t know what he wants to draw, really, hasn’t had that sort of drive to come back to doing it for a bit. 

He picks up his pencil, puts it back down, picks it up again, twirls it. Taeyong wants to try today. After all, whatever comes out of him today doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be a drawing.

Cupping his jaw with his other hand, Taeyong sketches out a form. Nothing much really for now, he still has no idea where he’s going with it. He just lets his hand do what it wants for now. 

Slowly, it takes the form of a human. Taeyong just keeps going, not wanting to fix the image of anyone into his mind. Again, he’ll just let his hand do whatever, this wasn’t anything too serious anyways. 

He takes a break about halfway through, getting himself some water and his last pack of Oreos. The music is still blaring from the speakers in his room, but the rest of his apartment is quiet. Taeyong has gradually gotten used to it. Living alone is hard, but he can do it. He’s been managing pretty well. 

Looking around, he does need to tidy up. A few packages have arrived, and he hasn’t put them away yet after opening. Plus, he’s just generally built up a bit of a mess, so he should probably get around to addressing that really soon. The year was going to end soon, and he can’t welcome it with all this stuff.

When he goes back to his room and his drawing, he takes a look at what he's done so far. It's more of a sketchy style than he does normally, but he does kind of like it. Honestly, he didn't expect to even end up with something today, but it's a promising start.

Taeyong's momentarily distracted by his phone lighting up, so he peers at the notification. It's Ten, with a single-word text.

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**so

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**so

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**you talking?

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**no

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**bc?

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**bc there's no need

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**mmm wrong

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**ten.

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**u know if it weren't for this goddamn ecq i would go there personally and slap some sense into u  
be thankful 2 this shitty government because now i can't even go out

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**i will never be thankful to them

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**ur absolutely right baby  
but also u r so wrong about not talking 2 him  
js

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**care to elaborate?

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**if i do, will u even listen?  
i don't think so  
Anyways  
ur drawing aren't you

Goddammit Ten. Taeyong puts his pencil down, running his hands through his hair. At this point, Ten must've installed spy cameras here somewhere. How the hell does he know that?

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**i don't even wanna talk to u anymore

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**mmmmm ok  
but promise me you'll talk 2 him?

Taeyong doesn't reply right away. He just reads and rereads that message, sighing.

He can't promise it, he knows. Because the moment he promises it, Ten will absolutely make sure that he goes through with it no matter what. No amount of quarantine will stop this man.

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**i cant

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**try at least  
i know u can do it

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**and what if i really can't?

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**don't make me bring out johnny and jaehyun on you  
but also  
u were the one that said that u wanted it 2 go back 2 how it was, right?  
do smth about it then  
at this rate it's not going to  
come on, taeyong  
talk 2 your bf  
that means best friend btw but it can be the other one

Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, Taeyong lets out an exhale. He has a point, as Ten usually does.

He can't just do that and break off his friendship with Doyoung. That was one of the most important relationships in his life. Doyoung is one of the most important people in his life. He can't just lose that, lose him. He wouldn't forgive himself.

Talking to him would at least (hopefully) help them get back to their old ways. Taeyong really did want to get back his best friend.

For the past few days, he's been constantly finding things he wants to talk to Doyoung about. Like the way that he was frustrated at the ending of the show they were watching. Or that new bread recipe he was trying. Or some new music he discovered that he knew was right up Doyoung's alley. Or that video of puppies that his sister sent him. A lot, really. He always stopped himself from pressing send.

When he scrolled on his Twitter, he'd see Doyoung tweet a couple of things, maybe retweet some stuff. He always wanted to message him, ask him how he was doing, talk about that cool art he just retweeted, but Taeyong held back. Maybe he was just afraid that he won't get a reply, or that the conversation will end way too quickly. Maybe he just didn't want to find out that way that Doyoung didn't want to talk to him anymore.

It hurt, if he were going to be honest. He didn't like having to always take a moment to think about whether or not he was going to try to talk to Doyoung. In almost two decades of knowing Doyoung, he has never had to hesitate like this. Taeyong hates it.

But he knows how much of this is his fault. He chose to do what he did, he was the one that put the distance between them and maybe ruined this beyond repair. And god, he wants to try to fix it, because he can't bear to lose anyone else. Certainly not Doyoung.

 **[taeyongie 💕]** **  
**ok  
give me some time to do it

 **[ten ⭐⭐]** **  
**don't take too long, bub  
also  
show me ur drawing, yeah?  
even tho i already know who it is

Taeyong looks at his drawing, rough and really not his usual style. It's about 75% done maybe.

He sees it too. Taeyong knows exactly who it is. 

* * *

_"Don't make me say it,"_ Taeil warns.

 _"Say it, hyung,"_ Jaehyun cheers.

_"You're so dumb for this, Taeyong."_

Taeyong deserved that. He doesn't even try to defend himself. "Thanks, hyung. I needed that."

Ten had threatened an intervention with Johnny and Jaehyun, but apparently the great Johnny Suh can't deal with Taeyong's bullshit right now, so they had to bring out the big guns: Taeil.

Said man is huffing now, mixing powdered chocolate milk for his son while he's preparing to lay out everything Taeyong's done wrong. Jaehyun is mostly here for the moral support, Taeyong guesses, but he knows very well that Jaehyun could very well list out every fuck up he's done in the past 5 years too.

_"Okay, run it by me again. How'd you even get in this situation?"_

Sucking in air through his teeth, Taeyong winces. It was kind of a long, slightly weird story, but he knows he owes them that much at least.

"It was...we had this game." Okay not a great start, but it's out there now, he can't take it back. "Truth or drink. He asked me if I'd date him if we were the last two people on Earth. I said why not, we'd be bored anyways."

He gets almost matching looks from his friends. If they were talking about this in real life, he's sure they would have looked at each other and sighed.

_"Okay, and then?"_

Pursing his lips, he tries to remember. "He said well, why don't we try it? He said it wouldn't hurt to try."

The expression on Taeil's face is enough to make Taeyong wither. _"God, Johnny was right when he said this is way too much."_

Well. Johnny was absolutely correct. This is way too much.

It's Jaehyun that prompts him to go on. Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek, and starts talking.

He tells them about how they got stuck in quarantine together, the frantic grocery trips, the movie marathons, the dancing, the taking care of Ruby, the baking. The kissing he leaves for last, because he doesn't really want to bring it back to the forefront of his memory. Taeyong barely remembers what it feels like now, and he really doesn't want to miss it.

Throughout that, his friends listen attentively. He can see them react, of course, but they mostly just sit and let him talk about it.

By doing that, Taeyong realizes just how much they did together. Those months in quarantine, they spent trying out new things and having fun and just generally doing more than just exist together in Taeyong's 70 sq.m apartment. They were happy. It felt a whole lot less lonely with each other, Taeyong knew. Just that he realized it a little late.

And god, he realizes that he misses Doyoung a lot. He's already admitted that to himself, sure, but now he knows just how much. It must be evident, because both of his friends sigh, in that way they do when someone in their friendgroup is being dense about something like this.

 _"Oh, hyung."_ Jaehyun's voice is honey-sweet, and he still sounds exasperated. _"Why'd you agree to it when you knew how much it was going to hurt?"_

Taeyong doesn't have an immediate answer to that. He truly thought he'd have more time to avoid the question and therefore enough time to think over what he would say. Truth is, he still doesn't.

Shrugging, Taeyong stares at his keyboard. "I dunno. I guess I thought it wouldn't be too bad, but I knew that it was going to bite me in the ass sooner or later. Still, I kept hoping it wouldn't. And then this pandemic happened and I couldn't escape the truth that I was going to be stuck with him for a while."

_"Were you scared?"_

He nods. He was. More scared than he had ever been.

Taeil's sigh is a little crackly through the video call. _"And you're scared now too."_

Taeyong nods again. It's been a week since Ten had texted him to talk to Doyoung, but he still hasn't done it. There's this feeling that he's running out of time, that if he doesn't do it soon enough, he's gonna lose his best friend forever.

 _"Hyung,"_ Jaehyun pipes up. _"You love him."_

It's not a question, probably has never been. Taeyong has loved Doyoung since probably the beginning. Nobody has ever doubted it, not even Taeyong. It's just that Taeyong has done his best to not make it obvious, which apparently has failed in every single attempt.

He loves Doyoung. That wide smile that makes his eyes scrunch. That tone he takes on when he's focused on whatever he's doing, be it criticizing the characters of a show or cooking. That way he's such a steady force, lacing his fingers through the gaps between Taeyong's. That way he cares, without question or hesitation. He loves Doyoung.

_"If you love him, don't let him go on in life without ever finding out. He deserves to know, don't you think?"_

Taeyong looks at his kitchen. It used to be full of warmth and sunshine and sugary kisses. It makes him ache.

 _"I know that this, that everything that's happened so far hurts because you're not in an actual relationship, as you say."_ Jaehyun seems to look momentarily to Taeil, who nods sagely. _"But what you've just told us, everything you've done together, all the moments you shared, that sounds real to us."_

 _"It's real, Taeyong."_ Taeil gives him a sad little smile. _"I don't know what type of convincing we still have to do, but it's real. What happened was the both of you living together and being the couple that you said you were going to try to be. You've done that and more honestly."_

He has a question that he's wanted to ask since this video call started, but he can't quite bring himself to do it. Taeyong has genuinely wondered for a while, and he has no idea how to ask it, or who to ask it to.

Taking in a deep breath, he tells himself that he can do it. It's better that he hears an answer now, because he's not sure when he'll be able to get another one.

"Do you think... Do you think that it was real for him too?"

It makes both of their faces crumple just a bit. Taeyong is worried about their answers, and he's about to take it back when Taeil speaks up.

 _"God, Taeyong."_ He sounds both exasperated and sad. _"The answer is yes. It was real for him too. So you breaking it off, it felt very real to him too. The hurt was real."_

Closing his eyes, Taeyong nods. He can still remember that Doyoung, frozen in place and disbelieving. It wasn't fair, what Taeyong did. And if everything was real to Doyoung too, then what he did might have broken his heart. It sure broke Taeyong's.

"What should I do?" he asks, and he can hear the bit of despair in his voice. He is desperate, he wants to make this right now.

Jaehyun leans forward, the exact way he does when they're talking in real life. _"Talk to him, hyung. Apologize for doing that, and explain that everything has always been real for you. Make him know that you absolutely mean every single thing that happened then."_

_"And then say that you miss him. Say that you love him. Tell him the things that you've held in for so long. Please, Taeyong, do it for the both of you."_

He nods, promising that he will. He really will now. Taeyong wasn't going to let himself lose someone else, no.

Taeyong will do it.

* * *

When the ECQ ends, Taeyong goes to the grocery. There isn't as much of a line anymore, but more people are milling around now. He knows they're soaking up the little bit of freedom.

It's supposed to be a quick trip, since he really just needs a few things and he can come back when he has to. Taeyong gets a basket and moves through the aisles, getting what he needs so that he can check out and go home without spending too much time here.

Today, he was going to talk to Doyoung. He was thinking a phone call, and he's already tried to do the conversation in his head. It was going to go pretty well, he believes.

It was a good day, even with the sticky warmth. Taeyong was going to finally say everything he'd been meaning to say, and he can have peace of mind after so long. Doing this was going to be good for the both of them.

He's already halfway across the parking lot when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Taeyong whirls around, and he nearly drops his groceries when he sees who it is.

Most of his face is covered by the mask and the face shield makes it a little difficult, but Taeyong knows those eyes anywhere.

"Doyoung?" he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Even through it all, Taeyong can practically see his smile. "Hi, Taeyong."

Now, before Taeyong could even protest or say anything else really, Doyoung offers to drive him home. Something in Taeyong wants to automatically respond that he can walk home just fine, speed away from this and face Doyoung when he's ready.

But that something is shushed when Doyoung insists, already taking one of his grocery bags. It happens way too quickly.

Once he's buckled into the passenger seat, Taeyong stops himself from running his fingertips against the familiar dashboard of Doyoung's car. They've gone a lot of places in this thing.

Doyoung takes off his shield, and his eyes are clear as the day. Suddenly, everything that Taeyong has rehearsed is withering in his throat.

"It's so nice to see you here. But then again, I guess this really is the only grocery in the area..."

Taeyong only blinks at him. He hasn't seen Doyoung in a little over a month, and it's like he's seeing him for the first time.

It's so easy for Doyoung to launch into casual conversation like nothing happened, like they never had that day. Taeyong does his best to answer, but he's still a little taken aback.

Nothing is happening the way he thought it would, and he's barely processing what is actually happening.

And because Doyoung is way too nice, he even helps Taeyong carry his groceries to his apartment, even when he's well aware that Taeyong can do it on his own. Really. He has like two bags total and they're not actually heavy at all. Taeyong's heart skips a beat when he thinks that he's doing it to spend a little more time with him.

Once Doyoung is done, he seems to smile, because his eyes crinkle. "It was nice to see you again, Taeyong," he says, turning to leave.

And because Taeyong has promised not to hold himself back anymore, he asks, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

That makes Doyoung whirl around, confused expression on his face. "What?"

"Dinner," Taeyong repeats. He takes off his mask and lets a corner of his mouth tilt up. "Let's have dinner."

For a beat, he thinks Doyoung will refuse, saying that he needs to go home, but Doyoung doesn't. He just stays there, most probably disbelieving. Taeyong doesn't blame him. The last time he was here, Taeyong told him he shouldn't stay here anymore.

Finally, there's a nod from him, and Taeyong almost jumps with joy.

Taeyong whips up something quick, because he still kind of feels like he's losing time, and he doesn't want to lose any more. Doyoung sits gingerly at the dining table, still at his same spot, and Taeyong absolutely feels things at that sight. Good things, of course. Good, fluttery things.

It surprises Doyoung that he's done in almost no time, and he seems to want to say that he really didn't need to make dinner, but something in Taeyong's expression makes him pause. He seems wary, just a bit, and Taeyong understands. After what he did, he thinks that it's right that Doyoung doesn't trust the same way.

But gently, ever so gently, they ease back into conversation. Something simple: their jobs. Nothing too personal, nothing too detailed. Something to talk about while eating stir fried noodles. It was easy.

Doyoung leaves early because there's still some semblance of a curfew, and Taeyong almost blurts out that he could stay at his apartment if he wants. He reminds himself that it's too quick, that he needs to ease into this. He can't rush it, even though he knows he should hurry too.

At the door, Doyoung has a kind smile. Taeyong pushes down the urge to kiss the corners. "Take care, Yongie."

When the door closes behind him, Taeyong has to will his heart to calm down. Yongie. God, he missed being called that.

_Yongie._

Taeyong knows he's going to be fucked if he doesn't do anything soon.

* * *

Old habits die hard, they say. Taeyong's old habits have to be physically dragged away kicking and screaming.

Especially when it comes to Kim Doyoung.

That one dinner becomes another, and then another, and then another, and then it becomes staying for lunch until dinner, and then it becomes staying after that. The conversation starts casual yet withdrawn, and then it becomes telling each other about their days, and then that funny thing they saw the other day, and then showing each other their mostly useless impulse buys.

One day, Taeyong opens a bottle of beer for him, the last in the fridge, and invites him to lounge on his couch. Doyoung takes it, the smile evident in his eyes before it even tilts the corners of his mouth up. They settle in their old spots, because of course, but there's a good amount of distance between them. Still. It's infinitely better than a whole 15-minute drive. Here, Taeyong can reach out and brush his knuckles against his arm.

But he doesn't do that. (Yet, anyways.)

"Was this from the..." Doyoung swills it a little.

"Yes."

"You kept it?"

"I don't drink, you know that."

Doyoung nods, taking another sip. "You do. Just not very often."

Biting his tongue, Taeyong says, "Just not when you're not with me."

It gives Doyoung pause, but he tries not to show it. His mouth lingers a little on the bottle. "Yeah. Yeah."

To prevent himself from doing something stupid, Taeyong folds himself up on his end of the couch. Doyoung seems to notice, but doesn't comment on it.

"How's your apartment?" Taeyong asks, because he's run out of topics that aren't too personal, and he wants Doyoung to stay a little longer.

It catches Doyoung off guard for a bit, but then he's chuckling. "Ah, well. Dusty? Changed my sheets after months. Water and electricity bills are on an all-time low, so I got that going for me."

Taeyong can't stop the giggle that bubbles out of him. "Perks of not living there for a while."

"Yeah." Doyoung blinks slowly, and Taeyong is trying not to make it obvious that he's just realized what the hell he just said. "That, and other perks."

They're silent for a few more beats as their words hang in the air. They both know where this is going, and they're really just waiting for either one to say it.

And because Taeyong promised to himself (and to Ten. And to Taeil and Jaehyun.) that he'll talk to Doyoung properly, he does it.

"Do you maybe want to, I dunno, move back in? I mean, you can, I wouldn't mind at all..."

For a while Doyoung just looks at him. More than a month ago, Taeyong had asked him not to stay there anymore, to move out for the benefit of them both. Now, he's asking him if he would want to move in again, like everything's absolutely fine and dandy between them again.

In those few excruciating moments, Taeyong barely breathes. He knows he starts babbling at some point, saying that he doesn't have to, he can do whatever he wants and that Taeyong is merely suggesting–

"Sure." Doyoung looks a little dazed, like he can't quite believe this is happening. "I–yeah. Sure."

"Really?" Taeyong almost claps a hand over his mouth for how hopeful he sounds.

Doyoung nods, giving a small smile. "Yes. I don't like the empty apartment, anyways."

 _Me too,_ is what Taeyong stops himself from saying. _I don't like it either._

What he says instead, which is kind of lame, is: "And sharing bills is a little better than just paying for your own!"

It does make Doyoung grin, the type that is gummy and has never changed since Taeyong first met him. Taeyong wants to kiss that grin.

He barely thinks about how he just embarrassed himself there, because Doyoung is gonna move in again. That's all that he can think of right now.

* * *

Taeyong watches Doyoung move back in with his duffel bag and his laptop. It doesn't take long before he's settled back in, moving through the apartment like he truly belongs there.

~~He does.~~

As usual, he takes a hot shower right after he comes in. It's a habit he's developed, and he keeps saying that he doesn't want to bring in anything to this apartment. It's a great reason, really, but Taeyong is thankful that he gets a bit of time to think.

This is happening. Doyoung is back in his apartment and they're going to live together again. Taeyong can't take this back now.

He hasn't told anyone yet. This isn't something that's going to stay secret for very long, he knows, but he wants it to be just for a while. Long enough for him to get his shit together and actually fix things.

Taeyong is checking on his sopas on the stove when Doyoung comes out of the bathroom, hair damp and in his home clothes. He looks rather refreshed, his cheeks pink from the warm water.

"Hello," Taeyong greets, forcing himself to look back to his soup. "Will be done in a minute."

Humming, Doyoung pulls out one of the bar stools and hoists himself up on it, leaning casually against the counter. Taeyong can already feel that he wants to say something, so he wills himself to relax as he waits for it.

"We're back to how we really are, right?" Doyoung asks, voice soft. Taeyong momentarily pauses what he's doing. "As in... before we even 'dated'?"

Sucking in a breath, Taeyong turns to face him. He's accumulated a lot of words in all his years of being alive, and they all die in his throat when he sees Doyoung look at him. It's a genuine question, him wanting to clarify things before they went into this again, which makes sense.

But Taeyong doesn't have an immediate answer.

Back to how they are. Best friends. Best friends who hold hands and cook together and pass out on the floor together. Best friends who rant to each other about their mundane lives and then binge watch food videos together. None of the dates, or the morning kisses, or the cuddles in bed, or the not-so-sneaky photos they take of each other at the most tender of moments. None of the way that Taeyong almost up and said he loved him all those times.

He takes in another breath, a little slower now. They had to make it clear, otherwise they might go back to how it ended in the first place.

"Yes, of course," Taeyong answers, hoping it's the right one. "It's better that way, right? Nothing complicated."

Doyoung presses his lips together and nods. "We don't need complicated."

So that's it. They've decided. Taeyong goes back to his cooking and Doyoung settles back in.

They're Taeyong and Doyoung again, best friends since forever, and not more than that.

* * *

(However, apparently being back to how they were is barely different from how they've been the past several months. There isn't any kissing, but Doyoung finds himself in Taeyong's bed, holding him like he's scared that Taeyong will have him leave again.)

(Taeyong wonders just how much their "normal" was them actually being like this and just how long all of their friends have known.)

* * *

  
  


Now, Taeyong doesn't have the best apartment out there. It's pretty tiny, and he doesn't even have a view because he's on the ground floor, plus the building's kind of old. At least he doesn't really get any leaks, but the rest of the place is just livable.

What he does have, though, is a little porch area. It overlooks the very dried-up patch of garden in this apartment complex, and they have a great view of their neighbor's dog pooping. He's put an old table and chair set from his parent's home, the paint chipping from the metal frame already but hey, it's still usable. They're warm when they sit on them, and Doyoung puts his mug of tea right next to his laptop. Neither of them are really doing work right now, but they can sure pretend that they are.

Doyoung types out about two sentences before he looks up. "How come we never hung out here that much?"

Shrugging, Taeyong takes another bite of the spanish bread they bought from that newly opened bakery out front. "It's not exactly the best place ever."

"Hey, it's not too bad."

He says that, but he doesn't even get another two sentences in after another half hour. It seems like he's given up on it for the time being, just wanting to savor the fact that they're out and breathing the cool air.

It's been maybe a week since Doyoung has moved back in. Everything feels like nothing had ever happened, like Doyoung had never moved out. There are only a handful more of silences between them, but it's expected. The holidays were coming, and they were both thinking of way too many things.

Maybe Taeyong should be wary of this (and he'd definitely be usually), but he's not. He lets himself fall back into a comfortable routine with Doyoung. Coexisting with someone else again after kind of a while is jarring, but Taeyong is willing to make adjustments.

Still, his friends' words knock around the corners of his mind, reminding him that he still has something to do. A part of him still feels like it's way too early, and a part of him also knows that with each passing hour, he's not getting any younger and he's just delaying all of this for reasons that aren't all that valid.

They're nearing the late afternoon, the sky above them starting to become streaky with different colors. Taeyong thinks of the drawing he did a month ago, tucked away into his sketchbook on his shelf. He did finish it, after all, and he even took photos of it that he never really posted.

Taeyong had drawn dips that caught the sunlight, could imagine that golden warmth pooling in them. He had drawn the slightest of dimples, and the laugh lines that had been starting to show. There was even a soft flannel shirt, worn with age, a bit big on the person's frame but homey all the same.

He looks over at Doyoung, typing and re-typing a singular word. _Fallen._ Taeyong stares at the cursor, watching it blink before Doyoung decides to continue the sentence.

In the fading sunlight of the almost-late afternoon, Taeyong watches as Doyoung catches all that remaining glow. He's all soft flannel and crinkly smiles and everything that makes Taeyong _feel,_ and Taeyong knows what he's feeling right now.

Fallen. He's fallen, long before this moment on his way too tiny porch, and he knows he won't get up now.

"Doyoung," he begins, before he can chicken out of it.

"Mmm?" He turns, his brown eyes like amber now. Taeyong takes in an inhale that's a tad bit too sharp.

"I miss you."

It makes Doyoung smile, just enough. "I'm right here now, though?"

Taeyong takes in another breath. It was starting to get colder this time of the year, and he feels himself clenching his hands from how cold they feel.

He can't back out now.

"I miss you, still. It's...it feels like we're not really back."

Slowly, Doyoung's face falls. His fingers twitch against his keyboard. "Ah. I–sorry, it's kind of hard to get back to it..."

"No," Taeyong cuts in, quiet but firm. "I should be the one that's sorry. I'm sorry about doing that, I didn't even let you talk it out with me when I should have. I know I hurt you then, and I know that saying that nothing of what we did mattered anymore to me was such a cruel thing to do."

Eyes now cast down, Doyoung murmurs a, "It's fine, Taeyong."

He shakes his head, even though Doyoung can't quite see it. Doyoung was way too nice, way too forgiving, when he really shouldn't be. "It's not. It's not fine, and we don't have to pretend that it is. What I did was wrong and unfair and just plain mean. I had no regard for how you felt, just because I was scared."

That makes Doyoung raise his head, confused expression on his face. "Scared?"

With a nod, Taeyong presses his lips together. He can feel his heart start to quicken its pace, and not even his deep inhales can calm it down. Gripping the armrests of his chair, he steels himself to say the next words.

"Scared." He looks him straight in the eye, because he wants to stop hiding already. Taeyong's been doing it for too long. "I was so scared."

"Why?"

Out of habit, he knocks his knee against Doyoung's, smiling sadly. Doyoung follows the movement with his gaze, and he looks like he's barely even breathing.

"Because... god, Doyoung, you're my best friend. You're my best friend and I was enjoying this whole trying-to-date thing too much and I don't know what would happen if we ever decided that it didn't work for us. I kept thinking, 'is this just a quarantine thing? Are we just doing this because we're together right now?' I was scared that... it wouldn't be real when this all ends."

Doyoung doesn't say anything, just looks at him with his mouth parted. Taeyong isn't sure if that's a good thing, so before he can overthink it, he continues.

"I was scared that this was just something that happened because of a game, not because we were actually in it. And you know me, Doyoungie, I don't want anyone to be with me because they think they have to. I want them to be with me because they want to."

He feels tears start to prickle behind his eyes and his throat starting to close up, but he'll fight through it. If he doesn't, he knows he'll never say it.

"And–and when I was back to living here alone, I realized I didn't like it. I didn't like that I didn't have someone to share my leftover rice with. I didn't like that there wasn't anyone who sang Billie Eilish of all things at 9 am. I didn't like that nobody was going to kick me when something exciting was happening in the drama we're watching. I didn't like that I didn't have someone poking at me when I spent too long in front of a screen already. I didn't like it that there were no more tickles before bed."

In Doyoung's eyes are the hues of the sunset, all whirling together. Taeyong wants to bask in those colors forever,.

"And I didn't like that I didn't have someone to dash around the grocery with. I didn't like that I had to stare at the bags of bread flour you impulsively bought but didn't get to use yet. I didn't like that I wasn't talking to you, for the first time in what, 20 years?"

He reaches out, knocking his knuckles against his leg like he always does. Like they always do.

"I didn't like that I was so close to losing you, so close to never talking to you again. And that's all my fault, and I know that it's not easy to forgive. I...I don't want to lose you, Doyoung. Just because I was scared doesn't mean I would want to risk losing one of the most important people in my life again."

"Taeyong..."

"I miss you." He hears his voice break, and it's not like he can take that back. "I miss you, even when you're right there, because I feel like we're not the same as we used to be. It's my fault, and I'd do anything to reverse it if I could. I just...want us back. I want Taeyong and Doyoung, best friends, even if it means that I can't have everything else."

Before he can register that it's happening, Doyoung's already lacing his fingers through the spaces between Taeyong's. It makes Taeyong's breath hitch, and it once again feels like all of the words he's ever known is robbed straight out of him.

"Everything else?" Doyoung whispers, like he's not supposed to mention it. Something flashes across his face, something like hope, and Taeyong aches.

Nodding, he squeezes Doyoung's hand. "Everything else as in... the cuddles, the kisses, the little touches. I'd give it up, if it means that I can keep my best friend. I know all of that just complicated things, and we promised nothing complicated anymore right?"

For a few beats, Doyoung is just silent, his lips pursed. He studies Taeyong for a long moment, and Taeyong does his best not to shy away. He needs to be as open as he can be for this.

Momentarily, his gaze drops to their joined hands, his thumb rubbing against the back of Taeyong's hand. Behind him, the sun is setting, making him look like he's ever so gently glowing.

"Why give it up?" Doyoung asks, so quiet that Taeyong barely hears it. "Why give all that up, when you can have it both?"

Every bit of air feels like it has been knocked right out of Taeyong. He doesn't know what to say, or even how to speak after that, so he sits there, still as he's ever been, waiting for any continuation.

A corner of Doyoung's mouth tilts up. "You don't have to give it up, Yongie. We can have it both. We can be the way we've always been, you and I, while also having all the things that we've done."

"You mean–"

He's given a tight-lipped smile when Doyoung looks back up. "Look, I know you didn't really say it, and god I hope I'm interpreting all of this right, but I just want to say that I love you. I love you, Yongie. That didn't happen because of a game or this quarantine. I loved you before that, and I've loved you every second after."

Shakily, Taeyong laughs, and he knows for sure that it sounds like he's about to start crying. "Yeah?"

Doyoung nods, absolutely certain. "Yeah. I wanted to try dating you because I hoped that we'd actually do it in the end. I didn't want it to just be part of the game. I wanted it to be real too, but I didn't know how to say that because I thought you'd freak out."

His other hand comes to hold Taeyong's too, in the exact same way he did that very first time they kissed. A little hesitant, but still warm and steady.

"When we kissed, I thought that that was going to be it. It wasn't going to be this thing that we were just keeping on because we thought we had to. I thought... I thought we were making it official. Like, it wasn't something we were just trying out."

He looks down again at where they're linked, taking in a shaky inhale. "And when you...when you said that it wasn't working out, that what we were doing wasn't real anyways, I felt like everything got dashed to pieces. I didn't say anything then, but I really wanted to say that none of it was pretend to me."

"I'm sorry, Doyoung," Taeyong says, already hearing the tears in his voice. He sniffles, tries to free his hand to cup his face, but Doyoung holds on tight.

"You had a point, though. We never really made it clear, and what we were doing made things complicated. It looked like we were just doing it because we had no choice. It wasn't fair."

Slowly, Doyoung raises one of Taeyong's hands, pressing his lips against his knuckles. "But we had a choice. And I chose to love you, even though I couldn't be sure that you felt the same."

Taeyong sucks in a breath because his lungs feel like they'll collapse, like they're seconds away from caving in on him. All that time, he felt the exact same, and he just couldn't bring himself to say it because he was so scared of what would happen after. He was so scared, without even trying anything.

"Okay, so all of this will be really weird if you don't actually feel the same and I'm interpreting things way off track–"

He leans forward, presses his forehead against Doyoung's. This close, he can inhale the scent of rain and linen and tea, and he closes his eyes to imprint it in his memory.

"I love you," he whispers, because his voice is too shot to even say it any louder. "I love you. I wish I said it sooner but I'm saying it now. I love you, Kim Doyoung, I always have."

He can practically hear Doyoung smile, and then he feels him shift to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Taeyong doesn't know when exactly he starts crying, but he can feel the soft swipes of Doyoung's thumbs against his cheeks. Doyoung gently kisses his tears away, and he tastes like salt and chamomile and sunsets when he lets his mouth meet Taeyong's.

Taeyong holds onto him like he's his lifeline, breathing him in and feeling every little tremor, every little smile that Doyoung does. He draws it into his memory, making sure that he fills in all these soft, imperfect details because he wants to remember. He wants to keep this moment forever.

Because Doyoung is here, Doyoung is home, and Taeyong feels like he's home now too.

* * *

Taeyong is not the first to wake up. Some part of his mind registers that the body that was next to his the whole night is not there anymore, and his hands blindly feel at the spot of warmth left there.

The next thing he registers is the sound of the TV on. He can hear the familiar voice of the newscaster, but can't really make out the words that he's saying. Groaning, he props himself up, pries open his eyes.

His curtains are still tightly closed, with barely any sunlight peeking through. Taeyong would've thought it was sometime in the evening if he didn't know that the newscaster was for the morning program. Beside him is indeed empty, and if he strains his ears he can just about pick up the sounds of movement in the kitchen.

Dragging himself out of bed is a challenge, he just wants to snuggle in his cool sheets for a bit longer. But he smells pancakes and boy is he gonna get out of bed for that.

By the time he's out of his room, Doyoung is already plating the pancakes. He spots Taeyong immediately, beaming at him as he adds another piece to the stack. "Good morning!"

Grumbling, Taeyong shuffles to him, burying his head into his shoulder. "Morning."

He can feel Doyoung chuckling. "Sleepyhead. It's already 10 am."

"Mmmm 's too early."

With his free hand, Doyoung tilts his chin up. "Come on, we have a whole lot to do today, remember? Deadlines and stuff?"

Scowling, Taeyong closes his eyes and nuzzles in further. "Can't we have an off day?"

"Unfortunately, we're thirty and it's a Wednesday. We can't have an off day."

That makes Taeyong groan, and Doyoung laughs at that. He leans in to kiss Taeyong, quick but still warm and soft, and Taeyong feels himself smile a little.

"You're not getting more of that unless you come eat breakfast now."

Taeyong fake protests, but it's weak at best since he sits down at his dining table anyways. A plate of the still-steaming pancakes gets put in front of him, along with the near-empty bottle of syrup and the butter. Doyoung takes his usual seat, bumping knees with him gently.

In the background, he can still hear the news, and he tunes it out just for now. He wants to spend this moment of relative peace with the man he's always loved, and will probably always love. Mornings are always a little hectic, but he can have this. He'll let himself have this.

And when Doyoung drowns his own stack of pancakes in the syrup and chows down on a bite, Taeyong thinks this was probably the best idea they've had.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading this! it means so much ;;;;
> 
> if you liked it, leave a kudos/comment/bookmark~ they mean a lot to me!
> 
> making a playlist for this currently, it'll be up soon~
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/bundoie) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bundoie)


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